Waiting
by TheAngelStrikesBack
Summary: Some say that waiting is the hardest part. Apparently those people have never experienced what comes after. Sometimes, however, a few are lucky enough to have someone help pick up the pieces. Story of the C-Sec officer and refugee girl.
1. Prologue

Waiting

Prologue

It was a bright, warm day on the Citadel, as it was everyday. The artificial sky flickered its blue color with patches of clouds gently floating on the large screen, glitching every so often from the events that had occurred the previous few days. The multiple levels of the station were peaceful then, but there were still scorch marks and mechanical remnants of shuttles burning in the halls and in the Presidium. There were even rumors that the blood of the human ambassador, Udina, had stained the walkways and not even a krogan scrub could wipe his shame clean. Whether literal or not, the Spirits only knew how true that was.

As debilitated as some areas were, no one walking into the E24 holding area would have known the difference. The place had always looked decrepit, but ever since the influx of refugees began to grow almost exponentially the situation was becoming progressively worse. Most blamed the bureaucratic nonsense going on a couple floors below, especially since supplies were being cut back and redistributed for the war effort and Citadel residents. Truthfully, it was probably a mix of panic from law officials and war profiteering from the underground. Either instance would have been a far better situation to commit time investigating than sitting around the docks watching and listening to people cough and cry. Even monitoring the ruckus that was Purgatory would have been a better job. Someone had to make sure the building stressful situation remained at a minimum, however, and he was apart of the unlucky few to take care of it.

Tertius was responsible for reporting every last, little complaint anyone could think of making. Third son of four brothers from a family that had remained at the middle rung of the Turian Hierarchy, it seemed that his destiny was to remain stuck in an infinite loop of desk work and minor complaints for C-Sec. Even in his 'mid-twenties', as the humans put it, he was doing the work new recruits were usually made to do. The other officers assigned to the docks found something useful to do; some had been assigned to help the nurses, others to quell tensions of bad poker hands, while others still kept the refugees from entering the main population of the Citadel. He was confined to a stiff, rolling chair that made his bottom go numb, staring at a computer screen with the names of the dead and any news of the front scrolling in and out of view. Tertius supposed it was better than keeping watch over the far wall where names and pictures were posted. Just gazing at it in the corner of his eye made his chest compress and his legs shift uncomfortably underneath him. He couldn't understand who in their right mind would start trouble over there, but anything was possible.

Tapping his talons on the starch white desk, he stared off to the right, eavesdropping on a poker game not too far away. There were four players, three remaining pretty quiet, but one burly Alliance soldier letting out obscenities every few moments. It was so obnoxious that those half-sleep jumped, grumbling angrily only to be startled again when another bad hand came. He shook his head when the pattern continued, knowing it wasn't going to end any time soon and returning his gaze to his computer. He blinked, however, when he noticed movement that had not been there a minute prior. Looking over the edge of the desk, his chair squeaked when he sat back, surprised to see someone standing there.

What took him aback was her appearance. Even if he wasn't well acquainted with human features according to age, he could tell that she was young, younger than any girl should be wandering alone. She stared dazedly up at the monitors recalling the news of the day, her blond hair tilted on her head in a short ponytail. The screens were muted to keep the noise level down, the subtitles turned off so that one language did not seem favored over another. She seemed just as oblivious to him there as he had been to her, swaying her shoulders slightly in thought with her arms placed behind her back. He looked about to see if there were any human adults nearby she might belong with, but none appeared inherently connected to her.

After a time he spoke, unsure how to begin. He was genuinely curious as to why she was standing there, but his tired, aching body made his words come off a little rough. "What are you doing here?"

Her face twitched at his voice, looking down at him and smiling. "I'm waiting."

"Waiting? Waiting for who?" he asked.

"For my parents," she replied, bobbing her head to emphasize the point. Perhaps she could already tell what he was pondering. "They put me on a rescue transport and told me to wait for them here. They'll come find me as soon as they can."

"Well...I guess this is a safe enough place," Tertius grumbled, eying the surroundings.

The truth was that, although most of the dock's recent inhabitants only wanted refuge from the war, others were not so keen on sharing the already crowded space. In fact, such a fragile looking creature could be taken advantage of fairly easily; he had heard of instances in other sectors where unsuspecting victims were taken for everything they were worth. While his job at C-Sec was simply to monitor the news, file complaints, and check death reports, he couldn't help but forget those tasks, if only for a moment, for what he really wanted. Tertius's dream was to help people on a greater scale, maybe even to join the turian fleets in the fight against the Reapers. He wanted to follow in his older brothers' footsteps, even if he wasn't as smart as they were to become an engineer. Even his younger brother had taken the initiative to enlist, battling with his squad to take back Palaven. Though he would do the assignments his superiors asked of him, he figured it wouldn't hurt to expand his protective duties for the time being.

He leaned closer across the desk, looking to one side then the other and making sure none of the other officers were paying attention. Last thing he needed was for someone to get the wrong idea. "Look. If anyone bothers you, let me know. I'll take care of them, okay?"

She nodded, gazing back up at the monitors. "Sure thing, sir. Thanks."

Tertius stared on for a time before he noticed something. The ruckus in the corner had quieted down, a distinguished figure standing over the noisy soldier. Many of the eyes of both refugees and officers alike were focused on the commander, recognizing the Spectre from any distance. What Commander Shepard was doing in the holding bay was anyone's guess, but the presence of the war hero certainly seemed to lighten the air a little. The commander gave hope to the desolate and defeated, even when it had only been the image of the Alliance leader on the monitors. Seeing Shepard in person, however, was a much needed relief. Even Tertius was a little awe stricken at the sight.

"Is that Commander Shepard?" he heard the girl say quietly, turning his head to face her once more.

"Yeah, pretty sure, anyway," he replied.

"Huh," she wondered aloud, crossing her arms.

"What?" he inquired, gazing back as the commander began to leave.

"I just expected someone...taller?"

Tertius faced her with a narrow gaze, realizing she was joking when he saw the grin on her face. He shrugged, sitting back in his chair. Watching her place her hands upon the desk, he knew she was looking for some kind of rebuttal.

"And you would know what being tall is like?" he sneered, the girl huffing.

"What? I'm tall! In school I was one of the taller girls there!"

"For the humans in your class or...?"

Her smile remained as she stood back. "You're pretty witty for a turian."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment." He paused and then chuckled, pointing at her slightly. "You know, you remind me of someone."

"Who?" she asked, raising her eyebrows with curiosity.

As he opened his mouth to say something more, the omni-tool on his wrist began to flash. He held up a hand, signaling to the girl that he would continue in a moment. Her smile faded when she stared up at the monitor screens once more, overhearing the conversation taking place.

"Tertius?" another turian spoke over the communication system. Tertius tilted his head, seeing who it was from and looking over to his right at the other desk.

"Akarian? Is there something important? Can't just get up and talk?"

He saw the other C-Sec officer point at computer screen, identical to the one in front of Tertius. Stopping the scrolling list of the deceased, Tertius quickly scanned the orange lettering for what his coworker was mentioning. He only had to thumb through a few of the names before his eyes became wide, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief.

"I-it could still be wrong," Akarian said nervously over the still active line, shaking his head from a distance. "Go check with Commander Bailey on this. I'll cover for you. But, Tertius, if this is accurate...I'm so sorry."

Slowly, he turned off his omni-tool and stood, holding his head and continuing to stare at the names on the screen. Putting the monitor on standby, he glanced up to make his way to the embassies, only to find a pair of sympathetic eyes staring back at him. When she noticed the scowl on his face she diverted her view to the floor, turning on her toes and walking away to the benches. Though he felt like he should say something, Tertius couldn't muster the strength. He found it hard to even make his way to the elevators without breaking down.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I know, I know. It might be a little strange to pick out two of the most vague NPCs of the entire game, but even if they only had three instances of dialogue I felt it was compelling enough to make a story out of, (especially with all the voice cues and mannerisms that occurred). In fact, most conversations on the Citadel could have a story made out of them, (well, except the female Alliance soldier in Purgatory. Funniest stuff to watch, but...yeaaah...lol). Right now, this is rated T for violence and language. If you have a problem with the things you might seehear on prime time television then you may want to look elsewhere, (but if you've played Mass Effect, I don't see how...Still, I figured I give a warning anyway). More chapters to come, so I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Mary

Chapter One

[Mary]

The embassies were as packed as ever. On one side, people were forming weaved lines to speak with anyone who could answer their questions, most being turned away from a lack of information or paperwork. On the other, a band of C-Sec officers were stationed in front of the doors to the ambassador offices, making sure no one that wasn't authorized gained entrance. This number was growing every day, civil unrest accumulating to the point where many wanted a personal chat with their specie's political leadership on the Citadel. Many were human, wondering why they hadn't heard news about Earth or the other colonies in a while. If it had been any other day, Tertius might have questioned it himself, considering news was being thinned by the request of higher officials. That day, however, would not allow him the pleasure of thinking about anything other than the names he had seen on the previous screen.

He made his way to commander Bailey's office with a quick pace, catching a few sympathetic glances as he went. The look on his face made his distraught feelings apparent. Waving his hand across the green, electric dial, he found himself letting out a heavy sigh, almost as if his subconscious already knew the answer to his questions. He proceeded anyway, stepping through once the sliding doors had parted and finding the commander at his desk.

"Commander Bailey," he approached respectfully, Bailey waving away the formalities while he rubbed his forehead.

"I know why you're here, Tertius. Have a seat," he stated, picking up a data pad and scrolling through several report logs.

"I...When did the reports come in?" he asked quietly, sitting down in the cushy chair across from him.

"There was a slight delay on this one, due to messages that far out getting scrambled by interference. I've checked and rechecked the logs, though, and contacted the turian ambassador." He handed the pad to him, shaking his head as he sat back. "The Reapers landed before they had much warning. My sincerest condolences, Tertius."

He stared down at the specified and detailed account of his home, his clan, being torn apart and turned to ash. The friends he once knew, his teachers, his two elder brothers, his parents—they were all gone. Killed within the first few minutes of the invasion only to become a few digits in a long, long total of the dead and missing. He tried to maintain his composure, wanting his demeanor to stay professional in front of his commanding officer. Humans had a knack for spotting subtle signs of emotional distress, however, especially when it began to show in physical form. Bailey didn't want to mention it directly, but he could see the poor turian's fingers twitching where they were placed on the armrest, his facial mandibles doing the same the more he read. He was surprised Teritus could hold himself together for so long; he had seen many fall apart much quicker over far less.

"Take the rest of the day off," Bailey said, resting his arms on the desk. "The holding area can handle itself for awhile. We'll be getting in more refugees tomorrow, so I'll need you at your best."

"Understood, sir," Tertius stood, handing him the data screen. "Thank you, sir."

Bailey nodded solemnly, turning back to his work when the turian made his way out of the office. Tertius's knees were going soft the more he walked, increasing his pace just to stand on his feet. He finally made it to the elevator before needing to prop himself up, his head swelling with an overwhelming pain the more his chest compressed. The realization was sinking in slowly; all but one of his family members were gone. He could remember speaking with them candidly only a week ago, just before Cerberus attacked the Citadel. Tertius had been meaning to message them, if only to let them know he was okay, but he never could find a moment outside of the docking area. Perhaps he just didn't take the time to write it, slipping his mind for a complaint that needed filing. It didn't matter, though; they would never know. He would never hear what new projects his brothers were working on, or his parents scolding him as to why he couldn't be more like them. Seeing his light orange facial markings in the reflective surface of the elevator doors, the ones that designated his clan's pride, made these thoughts sting even deeper.

When the dizzying ride eventually came to a stop, he adjusted his uniform and stood tall, attempting to stay strong at least until he reached his apartment. The hall was deserted except for a few men returning to work from their lunch breaks. It wasn't surprising; most who resided on his floor were in C-Sec and either on duty, sleeping, or drinking their cares away at Purgatory. His room was at the very end of the corridor, the walk to it short but grueling in his tired state. Releasing the door's lock with its designated access code, he manage to step in and shut it quickly. That was all he could manage.

His back hit the door when his knees gave out, his body sliding to the floor. The filtered air barely managed to enter his lungs once his throat tightened, placing his face in his right hand. Tertius couldn't remember the last time he had felt like he did then, or if he ever had. He had always been taught that the turian race was not one to 'cry about it', as the humans would do similarly under emotional distress. Not once in any of his years of life had he been one to show weakness, considering it seemed counterproductive to his duties. At that moment, however, he was beginning to understand the people he saw on a daily basis—those that sat huddled in a corner or crying frantically against the wall of hundreds of faces. If there had ever been a reason to break down, he suspected that the circumstances he was facing would be worthy enough, just as they were for the countless others who were suffering because of the war. If only just once.

The next day, he barely managed to get up from where he had passed out on the floor and made his way back to the holding area. It seemed the news of his relatives' deaths spread quickly, receiving a brief word from almost everyone he passed. While he appreciated their sentiment, all he wanted was to get back to work. He figured it would take his mind off the pain, at least for a little while. Sitting for only a few minutes, however, and turning on his computer screen of scrolling names made this sentiment deflate. He turned his attention to wherever he could, leaning against his hand and staring distantly out through the windows into space. Tertius wasn't even sure how long it was before someone approached his desk, slightly surprised when the person seemed so cheerful.

"Hey!" the voice greeted, almost forcing themselves to be louder than usual out of nervousness.

He turned his gaze to realize it was the girl from the other day, his flanged voice dull to greet her. "Oh. Hey, it's you. Still waiting, I see. Any news?"

"No, but...they promised, right?" she laughed timidly, waving her hands in front of herself slightly. "They'll get here soon."

There was something about her mannerisms that spoke beyond her chipper attitude. He wasn't quite sure if she was worried about her parents or for her situation staying in the docks. Mourning or not, he knew he could take care of at least one of those concerns. He wanted to take care of others, and that was something he knew he should keep at his highest priority then. Perhaps even that would help keep his mind at ease.

"I'm sure they will. I'll drop by later to check in on you," he began, shifting in his seat when he reconsidered what he was saying, "if that's okay."

"Okay," she replied, smiling.

She could tell why he had paused, and it amused her to know that he thought about her safety so highly. From all the times she had visited the Citadel before, she never knew a C-Sec officer who so forward about individualized protection. At least none that weren't guns for hire. It was a pleasant change from the sea of sad and bitter expressions.

"My name is Mary, by the way. I'm from a colony in the Orion Arm."

"Mary?" he repeated. "Hm. Simple, pretty strong...Pretty short..."

She laughed, crossing her arms. "Okay, okay, I get it! I'm short! Jeez, rub it in why don't you!"

"Well, at least you're not as tall as a Volus," he muttered with a weak chuckle. "Then I'd be really concerned."

"Well, we wouldn't exactly be speaking so clearly to each other without a footstool, in that case," she shrugged, finally making him laugh heartily. "But no, I've still got a couple more years to grow. I just had a growth spurt last summer!"

"Forgive me for not being familiar with human attributes, but how old are you? 12? 13?"

"I'm 16, you jerk!" she shouted. A few of those conscious enough to notice raised their heads, the holding area quieting briefly to turn their attention towards them.

Tertius held up his arms, waving his hands to dispel any tensions that were building. He even had to shake his head towards the man at the other desk, his hand on his omni-tool to signal the other officers. "I'm sorry, okay? Just keep your voice down."

"Oh...You were serious?" Her face turned red, rubbing that back of her neck. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he replied. He didn't expect human teenagers would be so sensitive about such a thing. Then again, turian children could be just as fickle. "Jeez, you really are a lot like him."

"Like who?" she overheard him mumble, her eyes lightening up. "You mentioned that the other day."

"I did, didn't I?" he thought aloud, scratching the side of his face. "My younger brother. He has a tendency to, uh...speak his mind. Still does from time to time, even if he did enlist in a Palaven fleet."

"A Palaven fleet?" she said, concern creeping into her voice. "I heard about what happened there! It's so dangerous! Why would he go there?"

"We're in the middle of a galactic war. Anywhere is dangerous," he answered bluntly. "He felt it was his duty to defend Palaven, and when he was asked he accepted."

"But couldn't he have taken a job defending it some other way? Like engineering new ships or tending to the sick here?"

"If we didn't have people on the front lines then this war would be over in the Reaper's favor. They're just as important as those directing from the sidelines. Besides, what my brother did was a very honorable thing, and his duty comes first before everything else."

"But what good is his honor if he's dead?" she asked sincerely. His increasing temper made him neglect what she held behind her tone.

"For a turian, everything," he said coolly, sitting back in his chair. "Though I'm not sure how human kids deal with the concept of duty. I'll put it in terms you might understand: live or die, it's a lot better than sitting on your ass all day moping about the problems you could have helped solve."

"Don't lecture me about duty," she seethed, putting her hands on the desk and leaning close. He was almost taken aback by her sudden shift in attitude. "All the Alliance ever talks about is duty. Do this duty for your family, do that to duty for mankind. Where does it get anybody, huh? Pretty sure I could have used that answer before my sister enlisted and went to Eden Prime. She wanted to do her 'duty' and help those colonist get settled, only to get dragged away. Duty only gets people so far. Then you're dead."

He was fuming by that point, his eyes narrow as he stood and bent over to glare in her face. Tertius didn't rethink what was going through he mind before he said it, though the moment the last word left his tongue he wished he could have. "And I'm sure she'd rather be that way than to hear you say those things."

She stood back slowly, her mouth dropping. Her eyes became shifty, not sure if she had really heard what he said. Stiffening her upper lip she shook her head, turning quickly on her toes and stormed away. He lifted a hand slightly to call after her, but sighed inwardly, knowing it wouldn't do any good. Sitting back down in his chair, he let it roll back against the wall as he began to stare up at the wall of windows again, oblivious to the other C-Sec officer standing next to him.

"Eh, she was getting mouthy anyways," the other turian spoke, itching a portion of his white facial markings with his thumb's joint.

Tertius looked over quickly when he recognized the voice, jumping slightly in surprise. "Nerva! Don't do that."

"Do what? I was just casually making my rounds like usual," he replied smugly.

"How long were you standing there?"

"Somewhere between name exchanges and asking a human _girl_ her age," he laughed quietly. "Look, if you're trying to get in good with the locals, I can tell you right now you're doing a horrible job."

"I'm not trying to 'get in good' with anything," he spat. "She just started talking to me. And speaking of doing a horrible job, shouldn't you be monitoring any suspicious activity instead of eavesdropping?"

"What's more suspicious than a human getting friendly with a turian?" Though he asked a rhetorical question, he paused just to see Tertius's face tense up. "But seriously. Bailey's been sending down more officers ever since they brought that batarian terrorist suspect down here. There's more eyes watching this place than ever, so us regulars have a little less to worry about."

"We should be more concerned than ever if the commander is sending more people down here. Even you should realize that."

"Good old Tertius. Keeping the Citadel safe one minor complaint at a time," he chuckled as he began to walk away, waving a hand behind him. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to keep those rowdy poker games in check."

He could feel the pain returning to his head, sitting back in his chair once more. The world around him began to take on its normal pace and sound, helping his tense muscle relax. He stared at the ships that were entering and leaving the station, occupying his thoughts with blank questions of who could be on them and where they could be going. Anywhere would have been better than the Citadel.

Mary only made it to the entry lines at the front of the docks before she stopped, sniffing her frustration away to look over her shoulder. The _nerve_ of that officer; what right did he have saying such cruel things? All _he_ did was sit around on his ass and mope all day. She'd observed the way he behaved the last few days she had been there, and it likely hadn't changed suddenly from his previous years of employment. Though, he had been nice to her the few times they spoke...And he every time he kept saying she could go to him if she needed help...

She held her arms, feeling a chill go up her spine the more she considered it. Maybe she had just pinched a nerve. After all, she really didn't have much contact with any other species outside her own; maybe turians were a little more sensitive than others. She looked back cautiously to see he was speaking with another officer, wondering if she should apologize. Taking in a breath, however, she shook her head. He was just as guilty as she was, and she wasn't going to make herself look like some helpless little girl who needed his acceptance or protection. She had made her way to the Citadel by herself on a rescue shuttle, after all; she could handle waiting around for a day until her parents arrived. Wiping her cold, wet nose with the back of her hand, she began to wander around, making sure she stayed clear of that area for a while.

Stepping down a short flight of stairs, she carefully maneuvered around the electrical lines that were wired to lamps illuminating the far wall. There were people everywhere. Some where passed out on the floor, their faces damp from crying themselves to sleep. Others were sitting on benches with communicators in their hands, anxiously waiting for a call. What made her slow her pace, however, and eventually stop, was a short haired, strawberry-blond woman with her eyes planted against her hands. A Salarian man had his hand on her shoulder, trying to console her, but she just remained standing there. Her silence made Mary both curious and alarmed, leaning her head in an attempt to see the pictures on the wall. She wasn't entirely sure which one belonged to the woman at first, but it became clear when she moved closer. Scanning the multitude of family photos alongside images of the dead, she stood nearby, overhearing the woman whisper but trying not to make her actions obvious.

"It's not fair...It's just not fair..." the woman choked quietly, the Salarian nodding.

"Who would do this? They were just civilians..."

"I know who did this. We all do," the woman sobbed, her voice raising slightly. "That batarian. That _monster_. And now they're treating him, giving him sedatives that could be saved for those who deserve it?"

"Shh, don't get worked up. Remember your asthma," the man tried to console her, the woman nodding.

"I know, I just...I just miss him. So much."

"You and me both."

Though she wanted to say how sorry she was for their loss, Mary glanced around them, catching similar words from others both near and far. She had seen the other refugees, but standing in the still air of that place finally made her _listen_. There was just so many, too many to go up and share condolences with. The thought made her eyes drop to her feet, her chest tightening. If anyone had observed her behavior, they might have thought her cold, biting the inside of her lip and walking away. She forced her mind to go blank, her gaze fixed to the floor. Everywhere she tilted her head, the more she heard stories of heartache and worry. Her pace quickened as she tried to escape it, stepping past the entry lines once more and turning right, down into the main crate area. Her path didn't seem to help, shuffling through a mob of angry people only to get turned around and sent back the way she came without realizing it. Scuffing to a stop, she placed a finger on the edge of her lip, noticing that she had dug in deep enough to make it bleed.

Where _was_ she? Who would ever want to come to this place? Why had her parents sent her to be trapped in such a blur? She could feel her nose start to run once more, wiping it away before anyone saw. The truth was, no one would ever see her do it, or even see her. The day prior she sat on a bench believing her parents would arrive in the morning, but there she remained, standing alone in a foreign place. She held her arms once more, looking over to the wall that separated her from the only person who had spoken with her. He was the only one who made such a place even feel remotely normal. Although she wanted to return to the front of the desk, if only to make the cries from others cease in her mind, his last words still stung. Shifting the metallic taste that sat in her mouth, she turned in a vain attempt to find someplace quiet.

Forcing herself past the disgruntled group once more, she paused at the very far end of the stack of crates. She noticed that there was a decent sized gap between the shipment packages and the wall, looking to both sides and seeing that the C-Sec officers were preoccupied with other things. The silence beckoned her, coaxing her to slide down the opening until she reached the back wall. Seeing the rest of the crates were stacked randomly, Mary climbed up on the next one that was shorter than the one stacked on top of it. There was a small bridge of metal boxes she could jump onto, the rest of the holding area blocked from view. Eventually she was stopped by a large, red container that was placed all the way against the wall, blinking curiously when she realized how far she had gone. The light was dimmed and the voices reduced to dull murmurs in the little world she had discovered, Mary smiling weakly before finding a spot on the artificial floor with her back against the wall. She breathed a heavy sigh almost in relief, proud that she had found a place to stay on her own. Deciding quickly she would just stay there until her parents came, she stretched her legs out until her feet rested against a smaller silver box, shutting her eyes to maybe get some sleep.

A restful sleep, however, was not something that would be granted to her. She woke up painfully after, what she guessed, was only a few hours, her surroundings shadowed even more. While the voices of the docks had quieted, making way for a brief moment of rest for those who were forced to reside there, she could hear deep whispers coming from the other side of the containers. They were angry, much of the conversation resonating upon the metal of the red crate. Without much thought she sat up and gazed about for any openings between the boxes, finding that the only way to see those on the other side was to climb on top of the silver one in front of her. Trying to be as silent as possible, she lifted herself up and slid on her stomach until her eyes barely crossed over the outer edge. She recognized the area; the large, lobby-like opening was for the batarian refugees. Most of the large lights were turned off and she couldn't determine where the voices were coming from. Though they spoke in hushed tones, she could clearly hear what they were saying.

"You've really screwed up this time, Ghorek," a man's voice stated, clearly belonging to a batarian. Why he was speaking in a human tongue, though, was a brief, perplexing thought in her mind.

"I did...what was necessary..." another batarian man coughed, his voice weak.

"And you've virtually gotten yourself kill in the process. You were suppose to formulate a distraction for Cerberus, not anger them in the process!"

"You know as well as I...that these humans do not deserve...deserve..."

"You almost blew this whole operation with your rash decisions—"

"Hey!" She glanced up quickly to see the figure of a turian dressed in a white uniform. "Are you almost finished?"

"Yes, you can continue treating him," the first batarian replied, his voice quieting when he continued. "You should be thankful I have my connections with C-Sec. Once you're treated, however, I won't be able to help you with the Citadel's judicial system. I'm sorry."

Mary watched as the batarian departed, the turian nurse returning to his duties. She placed her face against the cold metal in wonder, hearing the other batarian cough furiously before a few beeps echoed in the corridor. Perhaps that was who the woman before had been referring to. Why they would bring him down into the holding area for all to see, however, was not something she was going to try to wrap her head around. What was meant by the phrase 'connections', however, and the notion that the man below really was a terrorist made her thoughts go dark. There was a murderer not even ten feet away and it was possible no one had heard the truth directly until then. Not only this, but there was someone looking out for him that knew of his actions.

She slowly made her way back down to the other side of the crates, feeling her heart race beneath her chest. Subconsciously pinching her cold, running nose, she had to keep reminding herself that they hadn't seen her. She would just forget that she had ever heard that conversation and shove whatever remained into the deepest recesses of her mind. No, everything would be okay, she was sure of it. Her parents would be there tomorrow, and her whole experience there would just be like a bad dream.


	3. What We Had

Chapter Two

What We [Had]

"Get away from me human!"

The voice of the batarian man in the red crate startled her from her sleep, shifting so awkwardly that her neck cracked. She groaned quietly, holding her aching head as every cough that reverberated nearby made her veins pound in pain. Using the wall for support, she found that her knees were weaker than they had been the previous day. Mary had enough energy to lift herself onto the silver box in front of her, however, the moment she heard a familiar voice.

"You didn't answer my question." It was Shepard alright. The commander's words were unmistakable, considering they had been on every news report from Earth to probably the farthest reaches of quarian space.

Mary gazed over the edge, finding that the surroundings were much more illuminated. The number of refugees was climbing, the space she viewed no longer strictly for batarians. Just below her was a human in yellow armor, his arms crossed and looking quite perturbed by being there. She could hear another man breathing obscenities in the crate to her right, though she wasn't sure what species he was. Turning her attention to the conversation that had awoken her, she was curious if the terrorist was finally being arrested.

"Your Alliance wiped out my world! Blew up a relay that turned my planet into ash!" the batarian exclaimed, pausing to catch his breath. "Aratoht had people on it. Families. Struck back...for them..."

"The Alliance destroyed the alpha relay because the Reapers were about to come through," Shepard stated sternly.

"Easy for you to say that now that...that—" The man began to cough violently, almost wheezing his words as he continued. "You want to punish me? Unplug the sedative. Let me join my family."

There was a long pause before she watched Shepard emerge from the red crate, hesitating for a moment before walking away. The commander informed the turian nurse that every question had been asked, Mary hearing the batarian man object before he was quickly sedated once again. Her face scrunched up, questioning the choice Shepard had made. Hero of the entire system, she wondered if letting the batarian live was out of duty for a law-abiding state, or for another reason. To let him die would have been the more merciful thing to do, but...

She shakily lifted herself up onto her knees, craning her neck to watch the commander head towards the elevators. The box that held her, however, was not meant to take the weight of a human girl. The moment she tried to take her hands off the metal surface, the upper panel caved in, making her fall awkwardly onto the middle region of her spine with her body wedged in the small container. Mary yelped in surprise, finding herself stuck with her shoes just outside the top. Sighing angrily, she attempted to wiggle her shoulders and flip herself around. It was a futile effort, but the darkness around her gave way as the wall on her left, what she came to realize was a sliding door, opened wide to reveal the scarred, perplexed face of the man in yellow. They just stared at each other for a time, the man's discolored eyes squinting in subtle discontent.

"The hell you doing in there for?" he asked in a thick, stiff-lipped accent.

Mary smiled slowly in nervousness, continuing hesitantly. "I...fell in?"

"No kidding," he replied flatly, shaking his head. He leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, watching her struggle to reach out and grab the edge of the shorter black container that was level with the silver box's opening. "Not the best place to play hide and seek."

"I'm not playing anything!" she huffed, managing to pull her upper body out of the cramped space. "I was just trying to find someplace quiet."

"You're doing a good job at the quiet part," he scoffed.

"I just wanted to get a better look at Commander Shepard," she admitted, blowing the hairs that had fallen lose from her ponytail out of her eyes.

"Why? Got one of the ugliest mugs this side of krogan space," he chuckled. "Hasn't gotten any better since the last time we met."

"You know the commander?" she asked, swinging her feet out and over the side to sit upright.

"I know fifteen commanders, but only one worth remembering! Maybe because Shepard still owes me some money."

"So...is Commander Shepard really a war hero?"

"War hero? Pah! Let me tell you about about the 'war hero'. Saves the galaxy from the Collectors in a goddamn suicide mission, only to have the balls to give those Cerberus bastards the bird. Now the Alliance has Shepard running goddamn circles around this place. Real shame."

She raised an eyebrow, "So is that why the commander's been down here so often?"

"Yeah, that's my guess," he shrugged. "No other reason to hang around this hellhole. Maybe if the leadership around here got their heads out of their asses this war would already be over."

Frowning, she hopped off the end of the crate. No matter how awful it may have seemed in the holding area, to call it by such a name when people were forced to stay there seemed wrong. Subconsciously, she puffed up her chest, poking him in the elbow. "If it's such a bad place then why are _you_ here?"

"Careful," he growled, pointing back in her face. "Little brats like you should mind your own business. There's a lot of rough faces around here that wouldn't take kindly to the nosy sort."

"Yeah? Those same types wouldn't take kindly to an elderly person, either."

"Elderly? _Elderly_?" he nearly shouted. He glared at her for a time, his lip twisted in a scowl. The moment he realized her face was mimicking his unintentionally, however, he laughed, making her jump out of her intent stare. "You've got guts kid, I give you that! Elderly. Now that's a first—"

"Hey, I've told you not to loiter back here!"

Mary darted her eyes just right of the older man's shoulder, her heart skipping a beat. It was the batarian man from the other day, his voice louder but still holding the clearly angry tone. The man in yellow paused for a moment seeing her reaction, slowly stepping around her. She wasn't sure if he suspected anything, but she remained still regardless, trying to become as small as emotionally possible.

"And I've told you that I don't give a damn," he spat, crossing his arms once more.

"We have injured back here! We don't need you spreading your human filth to what's left of us." The batarian looked around the man, seeing that the silver box's door was open and light was flooding in through its roof. He squinted in agitation, noticing the girl with the blond ponytail standing away from him. Even from a distance he could see her grayish skin, pinching her cold nose. "And what is this? How dare you bring a si—"

"She's none of your concern," he said, further blocking the batarian's view of her and stepping closer. "And I suggest you let this go. I don't care if you're the head of some backwater, puddle jumping—"

"The batarian fleet is nothing to be mocked!"

The man in yellow tilted his head down, noticing that the batarian had balled his hands into fists. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hit a nerve?" he said sarcastically, smirking. "And what are you going to do about it? And the fact that I'm here now? Are you going to try and hit me?" The batarian hesitated, grinding his teeth before he relaxed. The man in yellow laughed as his challenger proceeded to walk away, holding out his arms and taunting for a response. "Come on! Don't you want to fight a man who punched a Reaper in the face? Because I did. Except of course my fist was a nuclear missile the size of your mother!"

Mary slowly came out of her stunned state to see him turn back, his face holding a look of satisfaction. "Thank you for that," she said.

"For what?" he replied, waving a dismissive hand. "That guy's been giving me shit since I got here. Speaking of which," he leaned over, raising an eyebrow as he continued quietly, "is that why you looked as nervous as a hanar in a sushi bar? Afraid he'd find out you were back there?"

She reminded silent, her left foot skidding back slightly. When she started drawing into herself again, he shook his head, crossing his arms.

"I...I was hiding from someone, okay?" she pleaded in a hushed tone. "Just don't tell anyone."

"So the truth comes out. Damn well could have found some peace and quiet on the other side of this place without breaking anything."

"That's the problem," she confessed. "You know the C-Sec officer? The one at the desk?"

The man in yellow glanced over to the wall that separated the area from his view. "The turian with the orange tattoos? What about him?"

"He said something really mean the other day."

"What? Did he tell you not to stand around the snack machines?" he chuckled loosely.

Mary bit her lip again, "He said it was better my sister was dead than to hear me talk badly about the Alliance."

The man paused, his arms dropping to his sides as his brow lowered. "Well...Damn. What did you do to piss him off?"

"Nothing! I mean...I just said that his brother shouldn't have joined the Palaven fleet. Just that he should have chosen to go somewhere safer!"

"Ooh, poor choice of words," he stated.

"What? But it's true!"

"Doesn't matter. You don't go talking about a man's brother like that, _especially_ if it's a turian. Only thing more important than duty is family to those people. Can't say what he said was right, but you were out of line yourself."

"But—"

"The last thing you need is one less pair of eyes watching your back. Turians may be hard asses, but if you suck it up and talk to him I'm sure this'll clear up." He looked towards the entrance of the small area, noticing the conversation taking place just outside of it. Without taking his eyes away he reached back, placing a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to walk forward. She gazed up at him with confusion before glancing ahead, seeing that the batarian man was returning with a C-Sec officer. Surprisingly he continued, pushing her to keep going as he stopped. "I knew a turian once. Worked with me and Shepard against the Collectors, but he was the most stubborn sonofabitch I'd ever met. Damn good man."

"Is there a problem back here?" a turian officer questioned, not even glancing down as she passed him. She was so nervous she could feel her stomach start to turn, but resisted long enough for her racing heart to return to normal.

"Not that I know of, officer," the man in yellow confessed, "unless you're talking about this damn batarian who keeps harassing me."

"This is no place for the likes of you or your kind!" the batarian man spat.

"My _kind_? I'm sorry, I didn't know the Citadel had put in a discrimination policy!"

Mary could overhear the shouting match that continued to echo throughout the docks, breathing out the air she held in her lungs. She was in the clear, at least for the time being, and she could at least put the thought of what had occurred in the back of her mind. Heading to the entrance, she noticed that, although the holding area was filling up quickly with people, the lines to come in had significantly decreased. It was only a few moments before she reached a receptionist, staring down blankly at a computer screen. The woman's eyes were sagging, dark circles almost matching the color of her black hair. The blue dress she wore was crinkled, its tight seams pulling from where she slouched.

"Can I help you?" she tried to say attentively, but it passed her lips as a half-yawn.

"Yes, um, I was wondering if you had any information today about my parents," she replied, tapping her fingers anxiously upon the desk separating her from the computer containing all entering and exiting data.

"Names?"

"Georgia and Timothy Bell."

The woman cautiously typed a few keys before waiting for a result, shaking her head after a moment. "I'm sorry, no one has checked in under those names. Do you know where they might be heading from?"

"The Leo Cluster. They're from Jubatus, but I don't know if they stopped at a different planet before coming here," she raised her tone slightly, nervousness setting in.

The secretary stared for a moment before slowly typing in the added location, shaking her head with a sigh. "No, I'm sorry. There still doesn't seem to be any information." She attempted to smile reassuringly, but it twisted in an awkward manner. "Try checking back later, I'm sure we'll have something for you then."

"Okay," she nodded quietly, stepping aside to let the next person spill their worries in question form.

Clearing her throat she rubbed her hands together, looking about. She was hoping that, somehow, she would see them walking about, perhaps just arriving or finding that they had forgotten to check-in. Her father was always so absent minded. Walking over to the downward steps leading to the wall of faces, she examined to see if they were there; maybe they would think it was a wall to identify people who had already made it. No matter where she turned, though, they were no where to be found. Without thinking, she chewed on the side of her mouth, her bottom eyelids twitching as she traveled in silent desperation.

A short distance away, Tertius was already at his desk, taking a minute to look up from his work and lean to his right. Peering around the wall behind him, he finally identified what all the noise was about from the crate area. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see the thick accented man in yellow armor huffing about something. Who in C-Sec _didn't_ know about Zaeed Massani? The man was practically a walking advertisement for almost every crime that could be committed under the laws of the Council. Of course, 'almost' was what mattered, and he always managed to keep his head above water, so to speak, at least to the point where he was never in jail for very long. Tertius chuckled to himself slightly, but not because of the conversation going on. He found amusement in who was taking care of the assignment. Nerva, who had been ducking away in a quiet part of the docks to avoid much work, found himself having to deal with a stubborn human and a headstrong batarian. Neither would concede, instead just shouting louder before the other could finish a sentence. He could see Nerva rubbing the sides of his eyes in frustration when he was unable to get a word in edgewise, a throbbing headache spreading all over his face. Tertius just shook his head; if there really was such a thing as some kind of cosmic payback for neglecting one's work, he suspected he was seeing it in action that day.

Shifting forward in his seat, he glanced above his computer, noticing a change in scenery. His grin quickly fell from his face, watching as the world rushed past someone he recognized. Her gaze was to the floor, swaying subconsciously back and forth in thought. The girl's sudden appearance was a surprise, considering he had not seen her in over a day. He assumed she had finally found her parents, but the notion left him in viewing her glazed eyes. Tertius wasn't entirely sure what to say, especially considering what he had transpired the other day. He hadn't slept well the night before because of it, waking up every so often wondering how he would have felt if someone told him something similar about his brothers. Cosmic payback indeed.

"Hey there," he began, speaking loudly and waving a hand to get her attention. His right mandible lifted slightly from his cheek, knowing how awkward that must have sounded. Still, she didn't seem to notice, looking up quickly and smiling.

"Oh, it's you. Hi," she said, glancing over her shoulder. Mary was a little anxious to talk to him again, but tried to appear cheerful, if only to start the conversation off well.

"Your parents get here yet?" He knew that was a pretty dumb question, but he just couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Nope," she shook her head. "It's okay. I mean—they'll get here. They always keep their promises." She began to rub her forehead as if out of quiet frustration. "They...Next shuttle was probably just late or something, that's all."

"I'm sure you're right," he replied, drawing out his words. "I look forward to meeting them."

He stared on for a minute or so, watching her smile fade as she briefly looked up to the monitors mounted on the wall. Tertius could see the bags under her eyes were a light shade of pink, her nose showing the same coloration with a surrounding gray hue. He couldn't remember if she had always looked that way, but her eyes were certainly different. They were hazy, almost building a glossy covering over what she was burying deep inside. Leaning forward upon the desk, he carried on softly.

"Are you alright? I tried to find you yesterday but no one had seen you."

Mary finally fixed her gaze on him, surprised. He had been looking for her, even after what she had said? She tried smiling again the best she could; it was the least she could do. "Yeah, I'm fine. Really! I'm just a little tired." She paused, knowing what needed to be said. Mary took in a breath, wringing her hands before she began to speak. "So yesterday—"

"Look, about what I said—"

They both stopped when they realized they were talking over one another, Tertius chuckling. Mary could feel herself genuinely grinning, coughing to clear her throat.

"I'm sorry," Tertius continued. "I was wrong, and I should have never said those things."

"Same here," she nodded. "I know you're probably really worried about your brother and it was stupid of me to even bring it up. He's a brave guy for doing what he does."

"Braver than most of us," he stated, sitting back. "It's funny, he always used to be so afraid of everything. Even lightening storms freaked him out."

Mary giggled, "Sounds like my sister. She was the worst, especially when it came to small, moving things. This one time I remember my hamster got lose and she thought it was some wild rodent that had gotten into the house."

Tertius smiled, shaking his head. "What did she do?"

"Couldn't get her off the table until I caught the thing and showed it to her!" She laughed, though it trailed into a weak, quivering sigh.

"Probably some really entertaining times around your house growing up," he said, seeing her slowly start to fall apart from within.

"Yeah. It was." Her eyes were squinting by that point, fluttering to prevent them from stinging. "I should probably go get something to eat, sir. I'll see you around, though, okay?"

"Alright," he answered, hearing the distress creeping into her voice. "My name is Tertius, by the way. Remember, if you need anything or if anyone gives you trouble, you come talk to me. I'll handle it."

She nodded once more, "Thank you."

With that, she turned and walked towards the far end of the docks. He watched her slowly make her way to the vending food distributing machines, standing in front of it for the longest time. She could tell that his eyes were following her, holding her face away from his view and trying to keep herself composed. Finding that her vision was starting to blur, she pressed whatever number she could without thinking, grabbing the package as soon as it dropped and hurrying out of sight.

Mary fled down the steps towards the crate area, seeing that there were already men stacking boxes to fill the open area she had crawled through before. They didn't appear to be acting on orders or anything; they were just trying to make due with what little space they had left. Slowly walking past, she noticed that the small, angry mob had quieted for a brief time to stare at the man in yellow armor being shoved forward by several officers, yelling obscenities while he was lead to the entrance. She could see the batarian man emerge from the area they had been in shortly after, speaking once more to the original turian who he had contacted. Her eyes went wide when she realized he was about to look in her direction, spinning on her toes and returning the way she came. Over the railing of the stairs she had just descended, she finally noticed the empty red couch, finding the far corner of it and sitting with her back facing the crates. Though she could sense a glare burning a hole in her head, she attempted to remain calm, staring down at the food in her lap that she then remembered she couldn't even eat; it was turian food. Placing it to the side, she curled her legs up onto her chest, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes. Even if the feelings of a suspicious gaze eventually dissolved, her mind became filled with the cries of others, falling into the pit of her stomach and growling back at her.

Time went by quickly for the rest of the work day, Teritus feeling his eyes become heavy. Being relieved by the night shift officer, he made his way to the entrance with a yawn, glancing around to see if he could see Mary. He stopped before he reached the hallway to the elevator, noticing she wasn't anywhere in sight. It was just like the day before, the girl virtually vanishing into thin air. There were plenty of places to lay one's head, however, and he figured she had returned to the place she rested before. With a shrug he continued on his way, stopping at the C-Sec desk to punch out.

He had a hard time keeping himself from smirking when he saw who was standing there with a stack of paperwork. Most of the other officers had already left, except one. Nerva looked as if he would break the pen that continued to almost automatically scribble his name from page to page, his jaw clenching in aggravation. The only thing he was known to hate more than his job was to do the follow-up forms. Tertius tried to be civil about it, but Nerva could tell by the smug look on his face what he was thinking.

"Don't say it," he grumbled, handing over a group of papers to the asari official across from him and continuing with his report.

"Say what?" he asked, reaching over to a data pad to sign out.

"I get it. 'Do my work more often and it wouldn't pile up like this', right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, "but now that you mention it..."

"Hey, not my fault the humans and batarians can't play nice," he stated, punctuating his initials forcefully. "You think with a war going on they'd have more important things to worry about."

"Old habits die hard," Tertius shook his head, beginning to make his way to the elevator.

"You're telling me," he huffed under his breath, pausing for a moment before shouting after his fellow officer. "Oh, hey, I was going to ask you something."

"Yeah?" he turned back, yawning once more.

"You didn't happen to talk to that human girl again, did you? The kid with the blond hair?"

The way Nerva drew out his words made Tertius stand straighter, attempting to figure out where he was going with his questions. "Yeah, she came up to me to chat again. Why?"

"She didn't say where she's been sleeping, did she? Or what she's been doing these past few days?"

"Uh, just waiting for her parents," he answered, scratching his brow in thought. "Nothing much more than that."

"Huh, alright then." His gaze returned to his papers, jotting down a few more notes.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"What? No, just a little follow-up work on a complaint."

Though he wanted to know more, Teritus knew he wouldn't be able to get a straight answer from him. If it was one thing Nerva held up, it was the confidentiality of reports. What the human girl had to do with a complaint, however, was something that stuck with him even as he left for his apartment. Perhaps that was why she behaved so strangely when he spoke to her, at least why she seemed so fidgety. Whatever the reason, he knew there was no point wondering about it, at least not until tomorrow. There were enough things on his mind to keep him from getting a good night's sleep.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Okay, that was weird. For some reason this was posted but wouldn't show up. o.o Oh well. Anyway, just wanted to thank you guys for the nice reviews I've gotten. :) I really appreciate the feedback!<p> 


	4. Feed A Cold

Chapter Three

Feed [A] Cold

The last day he would return to his desk didn't feel any different than the many times he had made the short trip from the elevator. Then again, he didn't expect it to be his last day, either. No one did. Even when he slowed his pace, seeing Mary sitting on the bench across from his work area, he didn't think much of the staleness that was filtering through the air. If he had paid any mind to it, he would have recognized the satisfaction riddled on the faces of most and the mob lacking in front of the batarian crate lobby. All he would notice, however, was how pale she looked when she smiled up at him, watching her rise and walk over when he took a seat at his computer.

"Hey there!" he said brightly.

"Hey..." Her voice was weak and scratchy, Tertius noticing that she was wringing her hands.

He paused for a moment from logging into his work, concern in his eyes. "You're looking mighty low today. You okay? Anyone been bothering you?"

"No, it's not that. I'm fine." Though she lifted her voice for a cheerier disposition, the way she darted her eyes away gave a clear indication that she was lying. Why she would feel the need to or what could be so important to keep to herself was another question.

"Ahh. I see." As a member of C-Sec it was his job to discern if there was trouble afoot, but he had a hunch that it wasn't anything that went beyond something personal. "So...um, any news?"

"No, they just—their shuttle must be real slow," she replied, rubbing the back of her neck. Her skin was paler than it had been the previous day, and she was starting to get a red mark just below her ear. "Do you think they're okay? They promised they'd come get me, no matter what they had to do. It's just been so long."

Tertius wasn't entirely sure what to say. They had been instructed not to provide false hope if they didn't know a direct answer, but watching her struggle to keep the water in her eyes made it feel wrong not to say anything. "I don't know, kid. I'm sure they'd be happy, knowing you're safe."

"It's just...I miss them. I miss them so much."

She hung her head after that, trying to take in a deep breath but finding it choppy. Biting the inside of her lip, she surprisingly smiled, reaching into the small pouch on her side. Placing a small package on the desk, he hesitated to take it, wondering why her mood had just suddenly shifted. Perhaps she was attempting to change the subject, something that would keep her mind off of any doubts. He couldn't blame her for trying, but why she had a packet of turian food with her for no apparent reason was puzzling.

"Uh...If you're wondering if you can eat that, the answer is no. It will probably cause you to go into shock."

Mary smiled again, shaking her head. "No, I know that. I just accidentally bought it yesterday and figured you might want it."

"Oh. Well, thanks," he said, picking up the snack product. While something could truly be said for the lack of quality being fed to the refugees, he snickered, "Just what I always wanted. Day old cardboard bites."

"Hey, you know these things are full of preservatives! Everything's at least a month old before it reaches the Citadel!" she laughed, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, but it's that _one day_ that makes a—" He stopped himself when she suddenly looked to her left, her eyes growing wide when she heard a voice. Tertius turned to see what had startled her, noticing that Nerva had just finished speaking with a batarian man and was then heading towards them. He stood in curiosity, glancing to her and then back again. Mary was sliding back on her toes, her eyelids twitching. It was only when he went around the front to speak with Nerva did she stop, propping herself up with her hip against the lip of the desk.

He could see his fellow turian officer physically huff in frustration, waving a hand as he approached. "_Please_ do no tell me this is going to get more complicated than it has to be."

"What? Something happen again with the batarian refugees?"

"There's never an end to this nonsense," he muttered, glancing around Tertius to see the girl was still standing there. "Look, a batarian man is claiming that the girl broke a very expensive cargo crate and he's extremely irate about it."

"Wait, he's blaming a _kid_ for breaking a crate?" he questioned skeptically. "What did she do, knock a door off its hinges?"

"I saw it. One of the panels caved in and now the whole thing has to be replaced."

"Well does he have any proof for this? Or is he just picking the nearest human he can find?"

Nerva stood closer, lowering his voice. "Look, I don't care if she did it or not, but tensions have been running high since this morning when that terrorist was found dead."

"From his injuries, right? I heard from the nurses he didn't have a very...good chance..." When Nerva just stared, Tertius stood straight, knowing exactly what he was getting at. "I see..."

"He was found with his sedative cord severed. I know people didn't really like the guy, but that still makes it a possible murder case." He scratched the side of his face with his thumb's talon, wanting to get to the point. "Whatever she did or saw or heard or whatever sensory things humans can do, I don't care. If it prevents a riot in this place I just want her gone. Take her to C-Sec and keep her there for a couple of days. This thing should blow over in the meantime."

"Wait, me? You want me to take her to C-Sec?" he asked, pointing at himself. It wasn't so much that he objected to the idea, but rather he found it strange. He thought Nerva would find any excuse to leave that place. Of course, maybe the downtrodden, stressful atmosphere was a better alternative than telling a human child what to do.

"I have to stay here and clean up this mess. I'm sure Akarian has the complaints covered," he jeered, gazing over his shoulder.

Tertius frowned when he saw the other C-Sec official virtually asleep at his desk, nearly pressing his face into the computer screen with utter boredom. With a sigh he nodded, turning back to Mary when Nerva walked away. He wondered why her knees were shaking and her hand tensed on the counter top; even if she had broken a crate, which was highly unlikely, her only punishment would be a slap on the wrist and a written apology, maybe at most a small fine to her parents. The way she gazed after Nerva made it seem like she was about to walk the line to indefinite imprisonment. Tertius tried to show a smile as best as a turian could, waving a hand in front of her vision to get her to look at him.

"I guess we're going for a walk," he said reassuringly, her head quickly facing him. "It's okay. Nothing too serious."

"W-what did he say? Does the batarian think I was back there? Does he think I was spying on him?" She was speaking almost too quickly for him to grasp, beginning to hit the sides of her head with the palms of her hands in panic. "No, no, no, I didn't do anything! I didn't hear anything, I swear..._I swear_!"

"Hey, stop that," he began sternly, hurriedly taking her wrists to keep her from hurting herself. She looked up at him with her wide blue eyes, her pupils constricted into small dots. "It's nothing to get upset over. It's just a _crate_. We're just going to run to C-Sec and process some papers, then you can come back, get your parents, and be out of here like this never even happened, okay?"

"You...We're...What?" she drifted, blinking more profusely than he had even seen with a human.

His brow lowered slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her along towards the elevator. Her walk was stiff at first, but once he had filed a short release form with the asari officer at the front desk, her feet moved at a steadier pace. When they had walked in, she propped herself up against the handrail, gazing distantly at her own reflection. While he wanted to ask why she was behaving so awkwardly, he first stared at the range of floors that could be accessed. While the Wards were the closest and easiest C-Sec offices to apply for processing, he wasn't sure if it was the right choice. She was a minor, after all, and it was such a negligible infraction. He could see Commander Bailey already shaking his head with how pointless the whole situation was, especially with all the red tape that would have to be organized after bringing a refugee into the general population. Shrugging, he signaled for the elevator to head for the Presidium; if they were going to spend the afternoon just 'waiting it out', it might as well be somewhere nice.

When the elevator started to move, Tertius watched as she placed the back of her hand on her mouth, squinting. He passed it off as slight motion sickness, since he had seen humans suffer from it in the elevators before. What clouded his thoughts, though, was what she had been saying only a few minutes beforehand. Leaning his back against the wall, he cautiously planned out what he was going to say.

"You mentioned being somewhere. What did you mean?"

Mary bent her knees, holding her side. "I'm not going back there, am I?"

"What—"

"Please, please, _please_ don't send me back there!" she pleaded loudly, crouching down until she almost sat on the floor. "He knows I broke the crate! He knows I was back there!"

"So...You did break the crate?" he drew out his words, trying to comprehend what she was saying.

"If I did, that means I never have to go back there, right?" she presumed, gazing up at him.

"Uh, well," he thought aloud. "Maybe for a day or so. But once this all gets settled you can go back—"

"N-no!" she stuttered, reaching out an unsteady hand. "Don't make me go back there!"

When the elevator was finally coming to a halt, he was beginning to lose his patience. Interrupting him every few words was not helping her case, though he understood why she was probably so upset. No one wanted to be in the holding area; it was too much of a reminder of what was happening in the rest of the galaxy. Like it or not, however, everyone had their place on the Citadel. Refugees were meant to stay in the docks, just as he was meant to stay taking their complaints. Shaking his head, he walked out into the Presidium, expecting her to follow.

All he heard was a loud _thump_.

Looking back, he released a heavy sigh, seeing she was laying with her face flat on the floor. He had seen perpetrators perform similar actions before, throwing a tantrum or clinging to an immovable object to keep from going where they did not want to. Slowly pacing back into the elevator, he crossed his arms, poking her in the shoulder with his foot.

"Come on, kid, don't do this. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can see your parents again, okay?" When she didn't response he knelt, grabbing her shoulder to flip her over. "Are you even listening..."

He stopped, feeling how limp her body was. Lifting her head up, he could tell her face was unnaturally warm, even for what little contact he had with humans. Her gaze was narrow but he could see her eyes were rolling into her head, a red line of liquid beginning to drain from her left nostril. Placing her quickly but gently back on the ground, he went to the control panel once more, pressing the button for the nearest health facility. When the doors had closed again, Tertius gathered her up into his arms almost on instinct, propping her head up with his elbow and against his shoulder.

"You're going to get me fired, you know that?" he laughed weakly, his nerves showing in the way his talons tapped on her shoulder. "You'll be okay. We'll get you some help and then you'll see your parents again. I promise...I know you'll see them again."

Huerta Memorial Hospital, named after some human leader back on Earth, was generally used only for Citadel residents, particularly those serving in various military branches. Much of its space had been reserved for those who had lived fighting the Reapers, but after Cerberus attacked that plan had to be scrapped to make way for the thousands of civilians that needed aid. Many had to be turned away from the lack of space and sent to smaller, less equipped clinics, depending on the severity of their injuries. Though she was not a resident, nor was she apart of any military affiliation, he was hoping through the regulations in his brain that they would make an exception.

Hurriedly making his way through the entrance, he glanced around, trying to find the nearest place to set her down. Luckily, against the wall close the entrance, there was an empty gurney, appearing to have just been changed. He barely placed her on the bed before a human doctor was next to him, a look of agitation on her face.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?" she questioned, strictly trying to get an answer from him.

"Tertius Aquilin of Citadel Security. This girl just collapsed and needs medical attention."

"Take her to the Upper Wards then," the doctor stated, not even glancing down. "We don't have any more room for civilians. We barely have enough room for the officers."

"Please, can't you do something?" he asked, almost sounding like a beg. "She's burning up and I think there's blood coming out of her nose—"

"Blood?" she said quizzically, finally reaching down and turning Mary's face over to examine it closely. She took out a flashlight from her pocket, prying open her eyelids and seeing the reddened white portion spasm. The doctor stood straight again, looking over to him slowly. "Where did you say you found her again?"

He paused, knowing that his answer would probably get them thrown out. He couldn't lie, however; they would find out eventually anyway. "The docks."

"So she's a refugee?" she inquired quietly. He could tell she was thinking about what to do for a time, preparing himself to take Mary quickly somewhere else. Tertius was taken aback, however, when the woman adjusted the girl on the bed, rolling up Mary's sleeves. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what are you doing to these poor people down there?"

"I'm sorry, I don't follow," he said slowly, the doctor glaring at him.

"Just get me a nurse!" she shouted. "And tell them to bring me a fluid drip and some ice packs!"

He did what was asked of him without another word. The first nurse he met went and gathered two other workers, who then congregated with the doctor around Mary's bed. They packed the ice around her body, what he assumed was to bring down her temperature, and stabbed her in the crook of her arm with a needle and tube attached to a clear bag filled with liquid. Within a few minutes he noticed that a bit of color was returning to her face, her eyes growing still underneath their lids. Human ailments certainly were strange; they didn't even need medi-gel to heal her. Tertius put his curiosity aside when the nurses walked away, the doctor stepping up to him.

"She'll be alright, but we should keep her overnight for observation," she stated, cleaning her hands with a portable sanitizer.

"What was wrong with her?" he asked.

"What _is_ wrong with her is the one thing that can find you even in the middle of space," she grinned, waving a hand when his face remained dumbfounded. "She most likely has a cold."

"_A_ cold? What's _a_ cold?"

"It's a type of virus humans get every now and again," she said, her voice becoming cynical. "It wouldn't have been so bad if she wasn't dehydrated and probably starving."

"Wait, she wasn't eating? How do you know?"

"Or drinking. Water is more essential for life than food. Anyway, other than the fact that she's a twig, her vitals showed it," she replied, tapping at the omni-tool on her wrist. "Like I said, we'll still need to keep her under observation, in case it happens to be something worse."

"What about the blood from her nose?" he inquired as she began to walk away.

"Just a small blood vessel rupture, probably from hitting her nose on something."

The sound of the _thump_ earlier then made sense to him, feeling a little stupid for not thinking of it before. He took a seat on the small, cushioned bench next to her, wondering what to do next. There hadn't been a situation similar to the one he was in since the examples given during his time at the C-Sec Academy, (but even then he had gotten the question about it wrong on the exam that followed). Should he leave her there and report to headquarters, or should he just wait until she was well enough to return to fill out paperwork? In any case, he knew he had to inform someone of his location. Sending a message to the main office, he wrote simply that he was following-up on the incident he had signed out for earlier. It seemed sufficient enough, and he could explain the rest later if it was required.

Tertius finally sat back, taking in the sight that lay before him. It was almost like he was looking at a smaller version of the docks, of course more sterile and organized. There were people waiting with communicators in their hand, desperation riddled on their faces for answers that had yet to come. Over behind the wall connected to the desks, in a small corridor with large windows that gazed out over the Presidium, he could overheard a dim conversation between a shifty asari and her therapist. She kept saying how she didn't want to be around humans, whatever that meant, but she said it in such a way that his nerves prickled on his back. He drew his eyes and attention away to anywhere else, his gaze narrowing when his ears perked up to a strange sound.

It was a small, quiet whistle. Tertius glanced once again at the girl passed out next to him, laying on her side with her arm still strapped to the liquid dispensing tube. Her nose twitched every time she breathed in, creating the one-note tune. Slowly his mandibles relaxed in a smile, reaching over to pull back the strands of hair that were vibrating on her face. He wasn't entirely sure why, but watching her sleep so peacefully put his own mind at ease, almost forgetting where they were and why they were there. It made his tired eyes heavy somehow, feeling like he, too, could finally get some rest.

When she stirred a moment after, however, he shifted in his seat to face her. Her eyes flickered open weakly, sliding her head against the sheet underneath her to view her surroundings. Eventually she craned her head up, her eyes meeting his.

"Hey, I know you..." she rasped dizzily. "Tertius?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You passed out in the elevator. The doctor said you have a cold."

"A...cold?" she repeated, gazing down at the needle in her arm. "Oh...We're in a hospital?"

"Right again," he replied. "Do you remember where you are?"

"Uh...the Citadel?" she said thoughtfully, shifting her legs. "I remember long lines...and a wall of faces...and that woman crying. What was she crying about?"

He paused, realizing that the fever was probably messing with her cognitive functions. "Don't try to talk too much. You're still really sick."

"Oh yeah," she continued, as if she didn't hear him. "That batarian man. The one who killed those people."

Her train of thought peeked his interest, leaning in closer to hear her better. "Who? The terrorist?"

"Terrorist? Yeah...Yeah, he was dying. Another guy was scolding him for it."

"Another guy?" Perhaps there really _was_ another reason she didn't want to go back to the holding area.

"Yeah. I think...I think he said it wouldn't have happened if...uh..."

"If what?"

"If..." She breathed in when she remembered, her knees curling up towards her chest. "If he did his job and hadn't pissed off Cerberus."

The name was a red flag in his mind, sitting back. He didn't know how or why she would know what she did, but her desired departure from the docks was starting to draw in whole other connections. He placed a hand on her shaking shoulder, making her jump. Reassuring her that she was safe there, he watched her quickly fall back asleep. Tertius knew he wouldn't be moving until she was well enough to walk again, and even then they would be traveling to C-Sec for another reason. If what she said was accurate and Cerberus really was connected to the batarian terrorist, the situation certainly was beginning to sound a lot more complicated.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Okay, first, real quick question for you guys: Are these chapters too long? ._. They've run roughly 6-7 pages so far, and while I can type this much fairly easily, (I'm used to writing long, 10-20 page papers, lol), I'm curious if it's too much to actually read in one sitting or if it's an appropriate length. Second, I just wanted to give a shout out to MLGumm, whose story I'm beta reading, (titled "In Times of War"). I've been in a slump lately due to being burnt out by school, but reading a good fic that involves a similar subject certainly helps for motivation to keep writing. :)<p> 


	5. Little Words

Chapter Four

[Little] Words

It was nearing the end of the next day before she felt well enough to stand up again, but even then her stride was shaky. Command had contacted him over messaging to know his whereabouts and every time he replied they seemed to become more aggravated, especially one salarian officer who had to write three times in a row for a response; he had been too busy wondering if she was about to throw up her lungs to hear his omni-tool. Still, Tertius knew that once he explained the situation in more detail things would most likely clear up quickly. Though it was a short distance to the Presidium office in the elevator, he watched as she sat on the ground, her face puffed out and holding her breath with her forehead planted on her bent knees. He wasn't about to ask her stand up, but he rightfully couldn't carry her the rest of the way, either. Putting the thought aside for the time being, he finally selected his omni-tool for visual communication. Luckily, shift change had occurred, and the officer who greeted him was a well rested asari woman.

"Tertius Aquilin, reporting in. I have the suspect and we're en route to the Presidium office," he stated, getting a quick glance from the girl on the floor before she shut her eyes once more.

"Noted, Officer Aquilin. Please be advised, once suspect is detained you are to immediately report to the commander's office." She glanced around the transmitting device she was looking into before leaning closer. "And may I say, he is not happy with you right now."

"Commander Bailey?" he asked, almost puzzled at the thought of Bailey being _that_ angry.

"No," she replied. "Commander Marinus."

His mandibles flared slightly, nodding in reply before shutting off the communicator. "Great..."

"Huh?" she breathed, raising to her feet with the aid of the handrail when she felt the motion around them slowing.

"It's nothing," he replied, placing a hand on her back to help her out the door. "Let's just get you to a seat."

The cleanup in the major walkways leading to the marketplace was definitely going slower than expected, most likely due to individual investigations being carried out. Without a full genetic workup of every scorch mark, every bullet hole, it couldn't be fully determined if those who had gone missing were dead or alive. It was a depressing sight to see, especially down the flicking hallway of advertisements where various scientists were scarping up whatever they could. He sighed when he saw it, taking Mary's farthest shoulder and turning her to walk the long way around. The last thing he needed was her getting worked up and going straight back to the hospital again. She didn't seem to notice the change of direction, however, her head bobbing drowsily. Tertius coughed, making her jump.

"You said you've been to the Citadel before, right? Do you remember the Presidium?" he asked, trying to get her to stay awake.

"Hm?" she vocalized, rubbing her eyes and looking up before descending down a flight of stairs.

He stopped when he reached the bottom, turning back to find she was standing on a middle step, gazing wide-eyed. She smiled at the new sight, taking in the colors that reflected in her vision.

"No, I've never been here," she said, fixated on the shuttles flying through the open air and the artificial sky that drifted above them. "We were only here for a little while when we visited, and even then we didn't go much farther than the visitor lobby. It's beautiful."

"Beautiful, huh?" he mumbled, gazing over his shoulder. He wasn't entirely sure they were looking at the same thing, since all he saw was an overcrowded mess rifled with crime. Shrugging, he humored her, waving a hand for her to follow. "I guess that's one way to think of it."

"You don't think so?" she inquired, catching up to walk next to him. "I mean, what is that? They even have a river running through this place!"

"But it's not an _actual_ river," he commented. "It's basically just a large reflecting pool to get more light in here. Besides, I'd rather be seeing the stars."

He could feel her brush against his arm, glancing down. Though her face was examining the shops they passed, she was beginning to fuss with the gauze on her arm, picking at the adhesive. The left side of her lip was bent, like she was biting the inside of her mouth.

"I hate space," she confessed quietly.

Though he wanted to say something further on the subject, particularly why she drew herself so close, they were already at C-Sec. A turian officer gazed up from his computer, nodding in acknowledgment that Tertius had arrive and typing a few things into his computer. Without much thought Mary sat quickly on the couch next to the entrance, almost collapsing into it with relief. He remained standing, as was expected of him, and noticed how empty the main room was.

"So what happens now?" Mary asked, leaning forward with her arms crossed over her stomach.

"When they ask you about what happened, just tell them what you told me and anything else you can remember. The more details, the better." He could hear a door slide open on the far side of the room, but remained facing her.

She nodded, "Okay. Should I tell them you took me to the hospital?"

"I don't think—"

"A _hospital_? You don't say."

The voice was as deep as it was grating, Tertius standing at attention immediately. Commander Marinus, turian veteran of C-Sec for over thirty years, was never a man any officer wanted to hear. He was a remnant of old conflicts hardly anyone remembered, most notably the Relay 314 Incident, and it showed in his command. In fact, the reason why he hadn't achieved a higher ranking, despite his outstanding performance and leadership skills, was due to his condescending nature and overall ill-will to change. The only thing he hated more than poor follow-through with regulations was humans, and may the Spirits help _anyone_ who was affiliated with both. Tertius guessed that's why the asari officer standing just behind the commander raised her brow and gritted her teeth in worry, mouthing "I'm so sorry" in his direction.

"Funny, and I thought civilians were redirected to the Wards clinic," he continued, annoyance in his voice.

"He convinced the doctors to let me stay!" Mary said happily, completely missing the physical ques from everyone in the room with how awkward the conversation was becoming.

"Aha, what she means is," Tertius began, trying to quickly rectify the situation, "she suffered from severe dehydration and a virus infection to the point of collapse, so I took her to the nearest health facility. As regulation states, sir."

"Regulation also states that you check in and out at the required time. According to the database, you've been on duty for the past 31 hours. For all we know, you could have been screwing around on Citadel pay."

"Sir, I have a reasonable explana—"

"He saved my life!" Mary objected, wobbly standing. She tried to make herself appear bigger, despite being several feet shorter than the turian with the red facial markings; he was even a foot taller than Tertius, and almost twice as bulky. "And what do you people do on your pay? Sit around in a cushy office and give people the third degree about doing their jobs?"

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Even the officer at the desk was looking over, surprised by the girl's defense. The asari woman covered her mouth slightly, knowing it couldn't lead to anything good. There was a rumor around C-Sec that the designs over commander's eyes were actually the dried blood of the humans he had slayed during the war, though it probably wasn't true.

_Probably_.

"Is that what you think we do?" he sneered, crossing his arms. "Tell me, what did you do yesterday?"

"Sir—" The asari official tried to say, but was interrupted by a forceful hand being held up to silence her.

"No, let her answer. What did you do?"

His words were overpowering, Mary's back beginning to slouch in nervousness. She tried her best to keep her voice firm, however. "I was fighting an infection."

"An infection? Tell me, did you fight this infection in a nice, comfy bed? Warm and safe and able to close both eyes?" When she nodded hesitantly he leaned over, his voice growing dim in a terrifying growl. "You know what I did yesterday? I went through the names of officers, dead because of their injuries caused by Cerberus and unable to get the minimum treatment they needed. Good men, men who fought to protect little shits like you who don't deserve the satisfaction of life. In fact, I would serve your head on a platter to the Reapers if it meant bringing any one of them back, or if I didn't have to tell their families they won't be seeing their loved ones again. Luckily for you, I don't have that option. Now, what did you say my job was?" There was a pause as her knees trembled uncontrollably beneath her, trying to slide her feet away but stumbling back to sit on the couch. He stood straight, huffing, "I thought so."

Another long pause hovered in the air, Tertius clenching his jaw. He stood there in fuming silence, everyone knowing well enough that there was nothing he could say. There was no one higher on the chain of command to file a complaint with, not since Cerberus attacked, even if he had been apart of a race that went about performing such actions. The most infuriating thing about it was that Commander Marinus _knew_ he could say those things; it showed in the unsympathetic look in his eyes. Tertius was tempted to speak, his fingers beginning to twitch at his sides. The asari officer, however, could tell of his discontent, bringing up her omni-tool quickly.

"Sir, you have a meeting in ten minutes with the new hanar diplomat," she stated, almost too loudly for the surroundings.

"Thank you for the reminder," he replied sarcastically, looking back. "Take the suspect into custody. We'll work out what paperwork to file later."

Tertius narrowed his gaze. He had already filed the necessary papers the other day for her suspected infraction; all they would need was a statement and release forms, at least before he told them what he knew. Opening his mouth to question it, he caught his breath, feeling a heavy tug at his sleeve. Looking down, he saw Mary trying to stand once more, holding onto his arm for balance but continuing to hang on as she stared at the older turian with eyes that would kill if they could. Before the commander turned back he slipped it away, placing a hand on her back and pushing her towards the asari. Mary's face went from anger to worry, the woman noticing her change in attitude and holding out a hand for her to take with a smile.

"I'll place her in one of the interrogation rooms," she said, pulling her along. Before they disappeared into the back rooms, Tertius could overhear her attempting to put the girl at ease, asking if she would like anything to eat or drink.

"As for you, Officer Aquilin," the commander continued, pointing at him, "there is no room in this precinct for insubordination, especially with tensions running high between the batarians and humans. The last thing we need is some conflict breaking out because of inherent favoritism shown by our officers."

Tertius stood back, shaking his head. "Sir, I swear it's not like that! She knows something, something really important concerning the suspected terrorist!"

"Really?" he inquired, genuinely becoming intrigued. "What is it she said she knew?"

"There's a conspiracy going on," he said in a low tone, trying to prevent anyone outside of the entrance from overhearing him. "The terrorist was involved with Cerberus somehow. She didn't say why and I'm not entirely sure how she got this information, but we can't just ignore something like this, sir."

"I see," he drifted in thought, almost sounding disappointed when he sighed. Tertius didn't have much time to dwell on the oddness of his behavior before the commander took out a few papers attached to his side. "And did she tell you this before or after you placed her in hospital care?"

"I don't see how that would matter, sir—" he began, only to be cut short when his superior officer placed the papers on his chest.

"It matters because it will be held against you at your evaluation," he proclaimed, walking past him towards the embassy. "You're suspended for three weeks, Officer Aquilin. I hope your little stint of heroism was worth it."

He held the notes in his hand with disbelief, peeling them open to see the red ink neatly printed his discharge. It had only been a stupid joke before, saying he would get fired for what he did; he didn't expect that he would actually be two steps away from it, though. A flood of emotions washed silently over him, but regret was not one of them, clutching the files tightly and dropping his arms to his sides. Before he walked out he could see the officer at the desk staring curiously, coughing embarrassingly when Tertius met his eyes with a glare.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself then. Everyday, every damn day for _years_ he had been to work, carrying out orders to the letter, filing complaints until he could recite each notation in his sleep. Tertius had never been accosted about his work, never been yelled at, even in his time at the academy. He had never been _that wrong_. Even then he didn't feel like he had been mistaken, though the write-up in his hand stated otherwise. He wondered if it was genetic to feel as stubborn as he did, but it was only a short line in a longer paragraph of thoughts. What really racked his brain was if those in Purgatory felt similarly and, though he had no intention on joining them down there, he did question where he could get the nearest drink.

There was one place he could think of on the way home. It was right on the outskirts of the Tayseri Ward, owned and operated by a human woman named Dee Dee that would stock just about anything. Due to its location, everything was set at a cheaper price and placed in shelved aisles for independent shopping. Even if a person didn't have enough to pay, she was one of the few merchants that would allow for a private tab. Despite the convenience of it, he tried to stay in the store as minimally as possible, especially after she commented about how single men in uniform were 'particularly nice to gawk at'. Still, that day he didn't care if she stared at him for hours, just as long as she could point him towards the stiffest beverage possible.

Dee Dee was speaking with an asari merchant at a display across the hall, bug-eyed and twirling her dark hair in disbelief. They were gossiping about another seller down in the Presidium named Ereba, saying how awful she must feel and wondering if they should buy her a gift of condolence. News spread as quickly as disease, it seemed, but he didn't want to be impolite, yelling from a distance to get her attention.

"Hey, are you still open?" he asked, the woman looking up and smiling deviously.

"Oh, you know I'm always open for you," she waved with a rolling accent, and he could have sworn the asari's face was beginning to blush. She said a quick goodbye and returned to her store, twirling behind the counter. "So, what can I do for you today, Officer Tertius Aquilin?"

"Just the strongest, cheapest drink a turian can have, please," he rubbed his forehead with a sigh. He always regretted the day he first met her, naively telling her his name.

She blinked slowly, leaning her elbows against the table. "I didn't know you were a drinker, love."

"I'm not," he replied flatly, glancing around the store to see if he could find something himself.

"Rough day, hm?" she puckered her lips, raising her brow in sympathy. Humans had some of the weirdest ways of emoting feelings. What was even stranger was what some called themselves, most notably when they were of similar age. "Don't worry, Mama Dee Dee knows the perfect cure!"

He watched her disappear below the counter, hearing what sounded like a small hatch open and a few clinking noises echoing off the walls. Suddenly her hand reemerged, triumphantly holding up a blue bottle that was nearly the length of her forearm. She brushed back her hair when she set it down for him to take, clasping her fingers together and leaning her chin against them smugly.

"Is this—" he tried to say, surprise in his voice, but was cut short when she talked over him.

"Yes, yes, it's from Palaven. Stuff's hard to come by these days, you know," she pointed out, reaching over and tapping at the label. "I'm told it's similar to the whiskey we make back on Earth. Must be good."

His mandibles flared out slightly, shaking his head. "I said the _cheapest_ drink, Dee Dee."

"Well, it _is_ cheap when it's free," she smiled brightly, pushing the bottle towards him. When he remained quiet with question, her face finally took on a look of sincerity. "You haven't been in for a while, Tertius. We tend to notice when familiar names pass on the death board. I'm sorry about what happened with your family. I wanted to send a card or something, but I wasn't sure if turians liked those kinds of things. So, I guess this is my card...with interest for being so late about it, of course."

"Thanks," he nodded softly, taking the bottle in hand. "I appreciate it. Really."

"I know. I just hope you feel better," she said with the last bit of seriousness she held inside, smooching her lips again when he began to head out the door. "You come back and see me more often! I've missed watching you go!"

He ignored her last comment and continued walking, finding an elevator that would lead to his apartment. Even if most of the Tayseri Ward was still in major disrepair, the parts that had been rebuilt were quite pleasant. The stigma the ward had acquired for being nearly destroyed caused property rates to plummet, allowing even the lowest paid C-Sec officers to find a place with a nice view. His own home was a decent size for someone living by themselves; it had a fully functional kitchen to the far left when walking in, an attached living and dining area that lead into a hall containing the bathroom on one side and a larger, walk-in closet on the other. At the very end of that hall was his bedroom. The whole thing was minimally furnished, as he barely spent any time there anyway. Or, at least, he _used_ to spend barely any time there.

Sitting down on the couch in the middle of the room, he grabbed a remote off of the low-lying table in front. With it, he flicked on the vid screen angled in the corner, finding that it was another news report. In fact, virtually every channel was a news report of some kind, recounting the days events throughout the galaxy. It was depressing enough that after five minutes he turned it off, trying to locate the other button for the blinds. The one thing he liked most about his place was the view; the entire side wall was a window, gazing out into the rest of the ward and, due to the darkness of power outages that ran rampant through it, the space above.

The stillness of the colored nebula's clouds made his tired, restless muscles relax, sinking into the couch cushions with a heavy breath. He stared down at the bottle he had placed on the table, thinking briefly that he should get a glass for it. After pacing over to the kitchen cupboards and grabbing one, he sat back down, uncorking the beverage. It was funny; he couldn't remember the last time he had a serving that came from a _corked_ bottle, a technique passed on from human alcohol producers. Every other fermented drink made by turians had been capped with a metal cover, but once the merchants on Palavan realized the organic plant product made everything taste better, they dissolved their xenophobia for human things at a tremendously rapid rate. Strangely, that was probably one of the reasons why humans and turians got along in such a short time span, at least enough to cooperate with each other. If they hadn't, he wondered how differently the war would have been fought.

Before he took a sip he paused, gazing out at the stars that were twinkling back at him. Somewhere, out in the vast expanse before him, was Palavan. He remembered the images from Manae of the capital city burning in waves of orange, the silhouettes of gunships and Reapers cascading from the light of the horizon line. In the midst of all that, his younger brother was fighting. At least, he could only hope he was still fighting. It had been days since he received any messages from him, Tertius checking with any free moment he had, even while he was waiting in the hospital. He must have looked just like those people sitting on the benches.

The liquid never left the glass. Tertius set it back down on the table, inching it forward to the far edge towards the window. He recalled seeing something in a vid once, about leaving things out for the people who were missing in hopes that they would return or in remembrance. Any other day he would have thought it was a silly idea, but right then he figured it couldn't hurt. Maybe it would be a good conversation starter once he heard from his brother again. That's what he would keep telling himself as he took the bottle in hand, saluting the sky with it before downing the entire thing.

There was a rhythmic banging at the door. He couldn't remember when he had shut his eyes, but apparently he had passed out, his jaw hanging open with his head leaning over the back of the couch. The bright colors of the nebula didn't look so appealing anymore, the combination of the loud sound and the intense light making his eyes squint painfully. He really wasn't much of a drinker after all.

"Officer Aquilin of Citadel Security Services, will you please open your door?" a stern, female voice said from the other side of the entrance, making Tertius jump to his feet. At least what resembled a jump.

He stumbled around the couch and attempted to straighten his uniform, wondering why he hadn't changed when he returned home. Taking a quick glance at the clock placed above the kitchen stove, he noticed that several hours had passed, the bright red numbers reading that it was, surprisingly, 0400. He flipped on a light, clearing his throat and making an effort to sound as sober as possible when he spoke.

"Yeah, I'm here. Who am I addressing?"

"Detective Gia, investigation services," the woman replied, Tertius mouthing her last two words with question. "I'm sorry about the time, but I'm here regarding an incident that occurred earlier that needs immediate attention."

Confused, Tertius scratched the top of his aching head as he opened the door. "What inci...dent?"

He barely glanced at the officer in blue fatigues to see the blond-haired girl standing next to her, her wrists handcuffed and her eyes to the floor. Even when the woman continued he stared on in thought, noticing that Mary's skin had turned gray again.

"I was informed that you already knew of the intelligence Ms. Bell has acquired, so I'll make this brief," she stated, reaching over and releasing Mary from her restraints.

"Miss who?" he asked, noticing that Mary raised her hand.

"Me, sir," she answered almost inaudibly, the detective pushing her into the room.

"Wait, what? What's going on?" Tertius looked quickly from the the girl who stood away from him, glancing around her new surroundings, and back to the officer.

"Knowing the circumstances at hand, we can't trust keeping her at C-Sec until we know who might be involved with the perpetrators. Commander Bailey suggested we leave her in your care. The odd hour is so that the minimum amount of people will know she was transported elsewhere."

"Commander...Wait, _what_?"

"You are not to tell anyone that she is here, or that you even know of her whereabouts. She is not to leave this place until authorized by chief personnel. Commander Bailey will speak more to you about this issue at 1100. Do you understand?"

He shook his head honestly, "Not really."

The human woman smirked, patting him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, teenagers aren't so hard to handle as the vids make them out to be. This'll get straightened out before you know it."

With that, the detective was gone, almost out of sight before Tertius could shut the door. Turning around slowly, he saw that she had already situated herself on the floor, hugging her knees and leaning against the back of the couch. After a while he wasn't sure if what he had just experienced was reality or some alcohol-induced nightmare, walking over to the kitchen and throwing on a few more lights to find a glass of water. When a few minutes passed and nothing had changed, he realized that he was truly awake, but facing one of the strangest situations. He could see her gazing at him from just over her elbow, her eyes glazed over. There was nothing he could do about it, not for a few hours, anyway, so he assumed he should make the best of it. Grabbing another glass of water, he went to stand next to her, hovering the drink at her side until she took it.

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><p>Author's Notes: Thank you guys so much for the feedback! :D It's amazing to see so many people interested in this! I'll just keep going like I have been then, lol.<p> 


	6. Lost Lamb

Chapter Five

Lost [Lamb]

"So...How was C-Sec?"

He didn't notice his talon was tapping against the synthetic wooden surface until she glared at it from over her glass, pulling his hand away and sitting back in his chair. Tertius had convinced her to sit at the dining table to talk, though she hadn't said anything since she entered his apartment. It was far too early and he was far too hungover to think straight, especially what to say to get an answer from her. Then again, she had been in an interrogation room up until she arrived; perhaps the last thing she wanted to do was answer more questions. He cleared his throat, holding his head in quiet frustration.

"The officer, she said something about there being issues with leaving you with C-Sec. Care to elaborate on that?"

"Why, do you not want me here either?" she grumbled, laying her head down on her outstretched arm.

"What? No, I didn't say that," he replied, surprised.

"But it's what you're thinking, right? That you'd rather be sleeping right now or, you know, going back to your desk job tomorrow?"

He paused, crossing his arms. "Who told you that?"

Her eyes flickered away, beginning to pick at a gap in the faux wood grain. "You got suspended because of me. I'm sorry. I've been a pest since I met you."

"Hey, it's not your fault," he said, standing and taking her empty glass. "It was just a...misunderstanding. Besides, I needed some vacation time anyway."

When he went to fill up the clear container again with water, he heard her shift in her seat. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

"What?" he asked, glancing back quickly.

"Nothing," she answered, staring down at her hands in her lap.

Resisting the urge to pursue her statement further, he set the filled glass next to her again and returned to his seat, placing his elbows on the table. "So you'll be here for a while then?"

She nodded, "They told me I had to stay here until someone came to get me. I don't know how long that's suppose to be, though. I guess until they figure out who was working with that batarian guy."

"There's someone in C-Sec who was operating with the terrorist?" he inquired, shock in his voice.

"No," she replied. "Well, maybe. It was the guy who was talking with the terrorist who knew someone in C-Sec. Didn't say who though."

"I see." His heart sank to his stomach, regretting that he had so openly talked about it with the commander earlier. He should have just waited until they were in a private office, but it put his mind at ease remembering there had been barely anyone in C-Sec at the time. Tertius attempted to smile, waving a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about a thing. Consider yourself home for now. Well, as home as any turian abode could be, anyway." He chuckled halfheartedly, looking about the room. If he had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed her head begin to sink and her lips flatten. "I'll be honest, I don't have very many visitors and uh...I don't have the things humans are used to. If you make me a list I'll run out and get what you need tomorrow—"

"Can I take a shower?" she said loudly over his mumbles, making him sit straight once more. Her voice just about cracked, but it shifted to a cheerier disposition when she continued. "And maybe a change of clothes? I've been in these things since I left."

"Um, sure. Let me just go see what I have," he replied quietly, standing and heading for his room.

The pounding in his head seemed exasperated with every step he took, growing louder briefly until he came to the end of the hall. When he reached his closed door, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye, startled when he saw her standing behind him. The short, intense pain in his head must have been caused by the vibrations of her following. He shook his head to himself, vowing to never drink that much again and walking inside.

Tertius made his way to the wide, three-drawer dresser against the wall next to the bed, fumbling through any clean clothes he could pick out. Mary remained in the doorway, examining the room closely. There was a large, simple bed with gray sheets and pillowcases in the center of the room, framed with the dresser and a smaller nightstand next to the side where, she guessed, he slept. There didn't seem to be anything else, except for the far wall that was replaced by a giant window, much like in the rest of the apartment. The sight of the starry void made her back against the door frame, biting the inside of her lip.

"Sorry I don't have much. I still need to do some laundry..." he drifted, turning around to see her staring wide-eyed at the window. "Are you okay?"

His voice made her snap out of her transfixed state, smiling and hurriedly stepping up to take the items in his hands. "Yeah, I'm fine. These are good, thanks. Where's your bathroom?"

"Just out the door and to the left," he pointed slowly, Mary nodding in affirmation and running to the next room.

The last thing she wanted was to come off as rude, but she panicked. Sitting there in front of the openness of space, not to mention the stress that was still lingering on her mind from being placed in C-Sec isolation, made her feel so small and alone. It didn't matter what he said or how he said it; everything just went through her as whispers over the deafening sound of her anxious heartbeat. The only thought that infected her mind was how deep she had gotten herself into, trading one confined area for another. As she finally realized where she was, however, pressing her back against the inside door of the bathroom, she became overwhelmed with guilt, hugging the clothes still in her arms. He was just trying to be nice to her. She had gotten him into trouble, woke him up at the break of dawn, been anything but grateful, and there she was, in his apartment holding the shirt and pants he let her have. Mary managed to undress and turn on the shower before she broke down under the faucet, burying her face in her hands.

Tertius decided that, even if it would only be a few hours, he might as well get some sleep and be rid of his headache. He changed out of his uniform and armor into a wide-collared, long-sleeved shirt and slacks, lose enough to fit comfortably on his frame. Moving to grab a few things from the other room, namely the datapad he had left on the kitchen counter, he paused after retrieving them, hearing something from out of the dull sound of running water. He couldn't make out what it was at first or where it was coming from, pressing his hand against the wall to see if it was something in the pipes. When he couldn't feel anything definitive, however, he held the side of his head close, finally figuring out what it was. He had heard humans cry many times before, both in the holding area and on an arrest. Tertius had even grown numb to the signs of suffering from others, as every C-Sec officer did after awhile. Somehow, though, hearing her quiet anguish made his chest hurt. The thought almost made him sick, knowing that someone like her, someone who had just been waiting patiently for their loved ones to return, should never have to sound or feel like she did. It was just too uncomfortably familiar. Pushing away from the wall, he was determined to see the investigation through, no matter how much time at work or sleep he lost. He would make sure she would get back to her parents. With that he returned to his room and closed the blinds to the universe that laid beyond the window, forcing himself to sleep.

The water ran cold before she stopped tasting salt on her tongue, rising to her feet and reaching into the open shelves under the sink for a towel. She didn't think much of putting the same undergarments on again; back on her colony, where water was used for irrigation and hydration rather than clothes washing, she was lucky to have something clean to wear once a week. It wasn't that Mary didn't appreciate the new items, however, slipping the black and white C-Sec shirt over her head and finding it surprisingly comfortable. It ran far too large, the short sleeves extending past her elbows and the hem falling to just above her knees. The collar was especially too wide, hugging the very bottom edges of her clavicle bones. Its size made her smile, though, swiveling on her hips to make it sway. She decided to examine the pants before slipping them on, coming to the conclusion that it would have been a waste of time; the legs rolled at least a foot off the edges of her toes. The shirt resembled a nightgown anyway, she figured, folding the other garment up neatly and, after gathering her own clothes, proceeding into the hallway.

She found that he had shut off most of the lights, everything except a bright white bulb positioned over the kitchen sink. Noticing that his door was closed, her feet took on a light touch against the carpeted floor, attempting to be as quiet as possible. Mary didn't make it very far when she decided to head for the couch, her toes curling underneath her and almost pulling her feet backwards. The blinds were still open to the colorful sky that glared back at her, her gaze fixated on any potential movement in the panoramic image. Taking in a deep breath, she paced herself to the sofa and set the items in her arms down on the corner cushion, curling her legs up onto her chest. Though she examined the area one more time to see if there might be any other place to rest her head, she already knew that there was no where to hide.

Mary didn't just hate space. She _loathed_ it. There was nothing appealing about staring out into an endless abyss, no matter how many colors it flashed in her eyes. Sure, technically everything resided in space, even the planets people would call home, but there were _other_ things that dwelt there. Space was where the Reapers came from. Space was where the Collectors came from. Space was where her sister was pulled to, never to be seen again...

Her breathing became choppy with every thought she pondered, darting her eyes to anywhere else she could. The first thing she noticed was a gray remote on the table in front of her, reaching out and beginning to examine anything she could on it. She was severely tempted to start pressing buttons, just to see if any of them would turn off the stars, but she resisted before her thumbnail could dig into one of them. The closed door in the dark hallway made her turn her head, considering her options. Though she contemplated asking him how to work the remote, shifting in her seat to start walking over, she reconsidered, shaking her head. A man, an _alien _officer, she had barely known for a week had been trying to make her feel safe and even welcomed her into his house. Despite the fact that it was in his job description, it felt wrong to ask anything more of him, especially if he was sleeping. Placing the remote back down, she moved the clothes at her right and set them next to it, laying onto her side with her hands folded underneath her ear.

She barely managed to stay still facing the window before she rolled over, her back hunched over. Regardless of how peaceful the galaxy looked through the window, she knew better. Mary couldn't help but feel like something was staring at her, burning a hole through her that started in her stomach and shot down through her legs. The silence made the pain worse, memories echoing in her head of the cries that rang out throughout the Citadel. How could no one notice that there were just so many people falling apart? Why would anyone _want_ to take refuge there? Was it really so bad everywhere else? The place was like a tin can floating down a river with no destination, a proverbial tomb being wailed over and just waiting to be put in the ground.

Mary turned again, holding her side and flipping onto her stomach. Biting the inside of her lip, she resisted the urge to start crying. She wouldn't risk it, not when he could walk out and see her. When she could feel her eyes sting, she began to rub her hand against the floor, picking at the fibers jutting out. Mary paused, however, when her fingers came across something cold, wrapping them around the object and bringing it into her sight. It was an empty blue bottle, a foul stench floating into the air even at a distance. No matter how hard she tried to read the label, she knew it was nothing she would be able to recognize, surmising the lettering to be turian. The light of the nebula refracted in its curved edges, sparkling muted tones in her vision. Smiling, she held it like a spyglass, gazing out to the sky beyond. The perspective made her relax, the shifted color spectra dampening the glaring light of the stars and turning the clouds into gentle, blue-toned wisps. Beginning to examine the rest of the room to see how it would look, her gaze didn't travel very far, lowering the bottle too see something else she hadn't noticed.

The short glass on the distant edge of the table showed signs of condensation, droplets beading along its cylindrical shape. The amber liquid glowed at just the right angle, rainbows shimmering across the furniture as she picked it up. The odor was much more repugnant than it had been in the bottle, Mary making sure to hold it away from her nose. It was pretty obvious to her that he had been drinking—she remembered smelling it on him when she walked through the door—but she was curious to know why. She only knew two reasons why people consumed such things, and she could only assume it wasn't out of celebration. With as large as the bottle was, she thought that he would have finished it off, though perhaps the detective had interrupted him. Whatever the case, her expression grew sad, knowing that, for someone to sit alone and drink almost an entire bottle, he must have been feeling pretty awful.

She paused, scrunching her mouth to the side in thought. Turian and terrible smelling or not, her curiosity was peaked, wondering what it tasted like. Poking her index finger into it, she considered the repercussions of her actions briefly, only to place the coated alcohol onto her tongue. Mary regretted it the moment her mouth felt like it was dissolving, breathing in at just the wrong moment to have the vapors burn at her throat. Her diaphragm contracted immediately, forcing her to cough violently and accidentally shift her arms, tipping the glass over in her opposite hand. She gasped between her exhales, finding that it had spilled onto her clothes and was draining onto the carpet. Placing her hands on the top of her head, she shook in panic, mumbling a plan of action to herself as she grabbed her old shirt, the only dry garment left, and began to mop up the mess, attempting to prevent a stain. Her hands started to burn from the liquid, ignoring it until she cleaned up what she could and running back to the bathroom.

Mary threw what she had been wearing that day, as well has the pants he had lent her, into the sink, turning on the hot water and rubbing her hands underneath. At that point they were a vibrant red, the tingling around her nails beginning to subside. She felt like an idiot, shutting off the faucet in defeat and knowing there wasn't any point trying to wring her clothes out when she could barely see past her wheezing. Taking a seat on the edge of the shallow shower basin, she let her physical pain subside, her throat tightening for another reason.

Her parents had sent her alone on the rescue shuttle because they believed she could take care of herself. In fact, she had _convinced_ them that she could take of herself. Sitting there alone, however, forced to stay in a stranger's house because of what she had brought upon herself with her _stupid_ curiosity made her regret ever leaving her colony. She wanted to prove to them, prove to herself, that she wasn't as small and helpless as everyone had made her out to be, but she wasn't so sure anymore. Mary, noticing that the shower had dried, filed in and curled up on the tub's floor, knowing that she wouldn't have the strength to stare down the stars again. Biting her inside lip one last time, she pulled the shower curtain around her, blocking out any light that sought to tell her she was still awake.

* * *

><p>Author's note: So, a little bit shorterposted earlier than usual, but I have quite a bit planned out for the next chapter and I had already wrapped this up nicely since I had free time after my exams this week. Also, since a huge frickin' storm is suppose to hit my state soon, I decided I would update a little early in case the power goes out or something, (but I'm sure hoping not *knocks on wood*). Now, I'm off to go take a break and read my new copy of ME: Revelation that I just happened to find by chance at the bookstore today... [/is excited to read prequel stuff]


	7. Whose Life Meant More

Chapter Six

[Whose] Life Meant More

When he awoke the next morning, the pain in his head wasn't much better. Looking at the clock on the far wall, he was glad to see that he had plenty of time to wake himself up, grabbing a new, neatly pressed uniform from the dresser and his armor. Tertius pulled at the right side of his face and yawned, trying to keep his eyes open when he ventured out of his room. There was something amiss, a scent briefly wafting into his nose and making him pause, but he ignored it and carried on. He would later know how absent minded he was when he kicked himself for not checking to make sure she was still asleep before heading into the bathroom. That thought didn't cross his mind at the time, however, latching the door behind him and beginning to pull off his shirt for a morning shower.

"I don't think you want to do that," a small voice echoed in the tiny space, Tertius jolting his head and shoulders forward slightly in surprise.

He quickly pulled his shirt back over his head, being careful not to turn around. It was only then he noticed the soaking wet clothing in the sink. "What are—No, better yet, are you...you know..."

"I've got clothes on, if that's what you're asking," he could hear her snicker.

Tertius turned on his toes and examined the room, reassuring himself that he had no seen her when he walked in. Two steps away from the only place she could be, he pulled back the shower curtain, looking down and watching her smile with a wave. She was curled up in as much of a ball as was possible for a human, a huff escaping Tertius's lungs as he rubbed his forehead.

"What are you doing in there, kid?" he questioned, finding that his shirt was almost like a dress on her, the collar nearly falling off her shoulders.

Her smile faded, continuing to hold her knees. "I didn't like the couch."

"What, was it too uncomfortable? Not enough leg room?" Though he was trying to joke with her, she began to lower her head into the shirt, shaking her head. After a pause he knelt down, carrying on in a gentler tone. "What's wrong?"

"I hate space," she repeated in almost the exact same tone from earlier, closing her eyes and placing the palms of her clenched hands on her forehead. Mary didn't want to tell him the whole episode she had the previous night, but she owed him some sort of explanation. "Sorry, it...it freaks me out."

"But...why?" he couldn't help but ask. "We live in space. Every planet is just a ball rotating in _space_."

She glanced up at him, surprised that he mentioned the exact reasoning she had considered. "I know, it's just..." she breathed, finally sitting upright. "When you're on a planet, placing your ear to solid ground and hearing everything around you, things are just different. You don't think about what's...out _there_, but that it's safe and warm where you are. It's kind of like when you hug someone, close your eyes, and listen to their heartbeat. You don't see them, but you know that they're there and looking out for you." She laughed, embarrassed. "You probably have no idea what I'm talking about..."

No, he wasn't entirely sure what she meant. Turians didn't exactly go around listening to other people's heartbeats, let alone participate in the foreign emotional expression of 'hugging'. He humored her anyway, standing with an extended hand to help her up. "If you had a problem with the windows then why didn't you say something? There's a remote to close the blinds on the table."

"I was wondering if that would do anything," she admitted, reaching up and accepting his offer, "but I didn't want to wake you up to ask."

"Next time you have a problem just knock on my door and I'll take care of it," he said, having her lead out into the hallway. He decided he would just throw on his armor and uniform over the clothes he slept in; a shower just didn't seem that appealing anymore.

"Okay," she replied, finding a seat on the couch.

He finally figured out what the smell was, noticing Mary become skittish when she glanced at the scene in front of her. The glass he had set out was moved and empty, small, discolored patches dotting the surface of the table where the color had been stripped. He sighed in agitation, wondering not only what would have compelled her to touch something that reeked of flammable substances, but what compelled _him_ not to at least put the glass away before he went to sleep. She could somehow sense that was the issue, looking at him abruptly.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to knock it over, I swear!" she pleaded, holding up her hands. He could see they were still inflamed from where she had touched the allergenic liquid. "I tried to clean it up but it had already spilled on my clothes and I didn't think of getting a towel—"

"_Stop_," he yelled over her, holding his aching head. "Don't worry about it. It was a cheap table anyway."

"But..."

"You're the one who's going to have to live with the smell the rest of the day," he chuckled loosely. He was glad his poor sense of humor made her smile.

Tertius watched her reach for the remote and fuss with it before he went to the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator to find a snack to take on the way to the embassies. He paused for a moment, however, looking back. There wasn't an ounce of food in the apartment that was designed for levo-amino beings such as the one he would be sharing living space with. Noticing her adjust the collar of the shirt from falling off her nimble frame every other movement made him concerned, wondering how long she could go without eating. Placing the packet of freeze-dried cubes in his pocket, he went to a drawer and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, reaching up shortly after to take a glass from one of the cupboards. Filling it with water, he walked over and placed it on the table she leaned over, finding that she was shaking the remote next to her ear in frustration.

"Here, I'll trade you," he said, extending the writing tools in exchange for the small, gray device she held. She exchanged it, frowning when she saw him press the only button she had missed, the blinds sealing up a few seconds later. "Write down what you might need for a few weeks. That and whatever humans like to eat."

He moved to put on his armor and uniform, Mary narrowing her eyes in thought. She tried to think of everything she might have had at home—shampoo, a tooth brush, toothpaste, deodorant—and scribbled them down accordingly. When she was nearing the bottom of what she considered necessities, she noted a few other things she might want, like a pair of clothes and some socks. After all, she had basically ruined the only pair she had. Those were placed next to question marks, however, not wanting to impose any more than she already had. Gazing over the back of the couch, she extended her arm with the piece of paper towards him when he pulled the last bit of his armor over his carapace.

"Here you go," she smiled, waving the note slightly to get his attention before he took it. "Thanks for doing this."

"It's fine. I should have been more prepared for guests anyway," he replied, glancing over the list. Tertius blinked, confused. "Are any of these things food?"

"No, I can't eat any of that." She considered her words for a moment, resting her arms on the top of the sofa. "Well, okay, I guess I could eat the toothpaste, but then I'd probably get sick. Just pick me up whatever on the way back if you have time. I'll be fine."

"_Right_," he trailed quizzically, folding the note and placing it in his pocket. As he made his way for the door, he pointed out the last few things on his mind. "Remember not to answer if someone knocks on the door, and keep the noise down if you watch any vids. I don't need the neighbors calling C-Sec for a disturbance." She nodded, and before he could place his hand on the green screen to signal the door to open he turned back. "Oh, and if the power goes out, don't worry. The air is on its own grid and there's an emergency power source that kicks in after about twenty minutes, so the lights should only be off for a short while."

"Don't freak out if the lights go out. Got it," she replied, giving a thumbs up.

When he felt that he was finished he went on his way, Mary shifting in her seat to face the vid screen. Before she could examine the remote for the on switch, she heard the door open again, laughing softly when he continued.

"And be sure to drink your water. We won't be able to make another trip to the hospital if you become dehydrated again," he stated quickly, peaking his head into the room.

"Okay, I get it!" she shooed him, Tertius nodding in agreement and finally taking his leave.

The room grew still after that, Mary swiveling around and gazing at the marks on the table. She wondered how long his meeting was going to take and what it could possibly be about, the silence making her thoughts loud in her head. A small pain crept into her stomach the more she realized how empty the apartment was, retrieving the remote once more and pressing the top button, hoping that the vid screen would turn on. She grinned, feeling accomplished when it did, and sat back on the armrest, reaching out and taking the water he had set out for her.

For a few hours she sat, first watching the morning news, followed by the afternoon news and weather reports. Strangely, the anchors managed to fill the time with barely any new information, repeating themselves every half hour with the political tensions arising from the delayed actions of the quarians and the surprising aid the krogan were lending on Palaven. She could feel her feet start to swell from sitting so long, standing with a sigh when a reporter announced how perfect the weather was going to be on the Citadel, like it wasn't always.

Stretching her arms over her hand, she yawned and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards to see how things were organized. Everything seemed to have it's place and most things appeared like they had barely been used. The pots and pans were in the lower shelves, the glasses and measuring tools above the stove. What little silverware that was in the apartment resided in a C-Sec mug next to the sink, shiny and read to be used. The refrigerator was just as sparse, holding a few plastic containers of old food, a clear bottle that held some kind of green liquid, and a plate that still had a fork jutting out of a pile of strings. Her lips flattened in thought; he really was unprepared for guests.

Finding her way over to the bathroom to check on her clothes, at least to hang them up to dry, she paused before entering, noticing the closet across from it. The door seemed unusual as she examined it, having slats running horizontally to either side rather than the solid metal slab every other entrance held. She opened it up to find that the light came on automatically, stepping in with wonder. The space was huge in comparison to the rest of the apartment, almost the same size as the bathroom without anything around to clutter it other than an overhanging shelf that contained a few extra blankets. Mary questioned why she hadn't noticed it the night before, knowing that the situation earlier might have been a little less embarrassing if she had. She pushed the thought aside, however, returning to the hall.

As she took a step onto the tile floor of the next room over, she stopped, hearing a sharp beeping sound. Leaning her head back, she looked both ways, wondering where it could be coming from. Though after a moment she convinced herself to ignore it, the noise rang out again, making her wince. She had a feeling the disturbance wasn't going to end until she located the source, mulling about the living room trying to determine where it could be coming from. Checking under the couch cushions and the tables, inspecting the cupboards and refrigerator, and even pulling apart the blankets in the closest didn't yield any results. Mary knew there was only one other place it could be, telling herself that it was okay to go into his room to just turn off the sound.

She quietly opened the door as if something would snap at her if she didn't, lightly sliding her feet across the carpet. The object in question beeped again, her eyes flickering towards the datapad resting on the nightstand next to his bed. Rushing over to it, she looked the flat device over repeatedly, trying to find an off switch. If it was only thing she disliked about her colony, it was being behind on technological advancements, particularly with record keeping and...whatever the orange thing was that people wore on their wrists; she could never remember the name. Noticing that there was something flashing in the corner of translucent screen, she pressed the green, swirling object, holding it away when it began to talk.

"_Redirecting from omni-tool..._" it droned in a robotic tone, the green shape filling the screen.

"Redirecting? No, I just want you to turn _off_," she hissed, shaking it with frustration. She gasped when she saw another image appear, holding it still.

"_New message sent two hours ago. Retrieving..._" She found herself backing into the bedside, sitting with her eyes fixated on the blue, interlaced vid that showed the face of another turian. The person—she couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman before he or she spoke—looked worn out. Even for an alien she knew there were scars all along the face she viewed, the horns jutting from off the back of person's forehead wrapped in a few bandages.

"_Hey, Tertius._" She could tell it was a man at that point, rubbing the back of his thumb under his right eye. It didn't take her very long to connect who he was, even with the colors of his tattoos muted by the poor quality. "_Sorry it took so long to get back to you. The krogan just suddenly showed up a few days ago and doubled our rescue shifts. Can you believe that?_" He laughed. "_The krogan. Working with us. Spirits, I hope I'm still alive and this isn't some sort of...What do the humans call it? Limbo? Well, in any case, I hope things are going well on the Citadel. Cleanup must be something to see after Cerberus attacked. I'm not even going to ask if you know why they did it, but..._"

Mary watched him sigh, the undertones of his voice humming. There was something he wanted to say, she could tell, but seemed to be dreading it. Eventually he shifted in his seat, leaning against his hand that was propped against a surface off-screen.

"_I heard...about mother and father. And our brothers. Our whole colony, just...gone. I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it, but I know something like that wouldn't be broadcast for the whole fleet to see. They said it was for motivation._"

He grumbled that last part, every word he spoke rumbling down into her abdomen. So that's why Tertius had suddenly left the first day she met him; he had lost his family. She held the datapad in her lap, wringing her hands as he continued. "_Can't say it hasn't worked. I haven't wanted to kill a Reaper this badly since I arrived. I'll be honest, I was stupid for a while there, trying to get a bullet in every one of them that engaged us._" Unexpectedly, he chuckled again, shaking his head. "_She wouldn't let me get close enough to fight one hand-to-hand, though. Speaking of which..._"

He looked over the viewing screen, as if to see if anyone was there. When he nodded contently, he reached to his side, bringing forward a small piece of paper. He held it up to the recorder, Mary gazing at the photo of a dark-haired woman with strangely light eyes. "_Keeda gave this to me the other day. Apparently these types of photos are rare, since they have to be taken in a sterile environment. And she decided to give this to _me_. I swear that when this war is over I'm going to make this woman my wife._" He pulled the picture away, sitting back and pointing at the screen. "_And don't say, 'You're ripping off the plot of that awful inter-species movie'. Fleet and Flotilla be damned, this is happening!_"

There was a loud bang from a distance, his eyes darting to something she couldn't see. He shrugged, reaching for the recorder. "_Back to the grind, as they say. I'll message again soon, brother._"

Though his last words were complacent, they didn't alleviated the pain that was surging through her. It was a wonder that Tertius even managed to get himself up out of bed so shortly after so many things had gone wrong. Then again, perhaps that's what the history books referred to as the turians having 'a strong sense of discipline' and 'capable of masking emotions almost effortlessly'. She thought it had simply been an exaggeration from an old, biased textbook, but she was starting to reconsider it. If only she could have been stronger like him, then maybe she wouldn't be feeling as terrible as she did.

Then again, maybe not. Mary felt a sharp pain on her hips as she stood, her insides making a rumbling sound that she hadn't heard in a while. Placing the datapad back onto the nightstand, she hastily ran back into the bathroom, groaning in pain and annoyance when she latched the door shut.

Tertius made his way to the embassies without incident, although he did get a few glances from other C-Sec officers that gave the impression they already knew of his probation. He grumbled to himself about the Citadel being way too small for its own good when he entered Commander Bailey's office, shifting into a professional demeanor. The commander was sitting at his desk, as he usually was, staring at his computer screen and sipping a steaming beverage. Tertius could only assume it was 'coffee'; that was the usual drink of choice for humans with dark circles under their eyes caused by exhaustion.

"Commander Bailey," he greeted, standing at attention and waiting to be addressed.

"Good to see you," Bailey replied, motioning to the chair across his desk and setting his cup down. "Take a seat. There's a lot to go over."

"Sir, if I may be frank," he began, sitting down slowly, "I'm not entirely sure I understood the officer that came to my door last night. If this is about my actions the other day, I swear I have a perfectly good explanation and if this is some sort of punishment..."

His words drifted, seeing the commander start to smile as he stared at his desk. Bailey sat back in his stair, chuckling after a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what was so funny. It certainly didn't seem like a laughing matter.

"Please, give me a little more credit. I'm not _that_ cruel," he stated, shaking his head. "I could care less about whatever reason Marinus gave to have you suspended. Consider yourself reinstated off the record."

"Sir?"

The commander sighed, clasping his fingers together and leaning against the table. "Yesterday afternoon you brought in a girl that had intelligence regarding the terrorist down in the holding area. While we figured this was an open and shut case, things...just got a lot more difficult."

He reached over and grabbed the edge of the monitor, adjusting it towards Tertius and tapping a few keys. An angled image sprung up on the screen, showing a corner view of a C-Sec interrogation room. Sitting in a single chair in the middle of the shot was Mary, her hands in her lap as she gazed off in front of her. After a moment two figures appeared. One was the asari officer she had gone off with before. The other was Commander Marinus.

"_So tell me again what you told Officer Asira,_" Marinus said, holding his hands behind his back. He held the same cynical tone from when he spoke to her earlier.

Mary glared, pointing at the camera. "_Why? You already have it recorded, right?_"

"_I want to hear it from you,_" he replied, beginning to walk around her. "_I want to see if you're lying. Humans are terrible at hiding their emotions, and it's pretty easy to spot if, say, they wanted to lash out and kill something._"

The audio barely picked up the sound of her breathing in heavily, crossing her arms. "_Like I said, I overheard a batarian man talking to the guy everyone said was a terrorist. He said how he was stupid and should have stuck to the plan or something. Instead, he made Cerberus angry._"

"_And?_" he pushed for more, pausing behind her.

"_And..._" She began to pull at her fingers, hunching over slightly when he placed a hand on her shoulder. "_And that he knew someone who was helping him out in C-Sec._"

"_Good,_" he said sharply, continuing his pace around the room. "_So tell me, how exactly did you come about this information?_"

"_I overheard it_," she said quickly, sitting on her hands when a minute of silence drifted in the air. "_What? I just overheard it!_"

"_From where?_" he asked, and she diverted her gaze.

"_From...behind the crates..._"

So that's where she had stayed when he tried to find her, Tertius thought. He wondered why she would have, though, and apparently so had Marinus, walking up to her again.

"_Behind the crates? Why would you be back there?_"

He leaned over and became incredibly close to her face, Mary's lips flattening into a scowl of defiance. "_To...to find some peace and quiet, that's what!_"

"_Really? Is that all?_" he chuckled, placing his talons under her chin. "_I've been told that when a human is lying, they tend to look to the left. I've counted seven times since we started this conversation._"

"_I'm not lying!_" she pleaded, shaking her head free. "_And that's only when they're looking to _your _left, you...you...!_"

"_So you know the strategy to avoid detection!_" he stood straight, almost sounding impressed. "_All the more reason not to believe you._"

"_What? That's insane! I've told you everything I know! I'm telling the truth!_" she shouted, leaning forward as if she would stand.

"_Then tell us who the batarian man is. Or perhaps the officer he so causally said he was working with. Not to mention why they were speaking in a way you could understand._"

"_I don't know!_" Her voice cracked, her mouth beginning to quiver in frustration. "_And even if I did why would I tell you? For all I know _you_ could be the guy he mentioned! In fact, the only officer who ever cared what happened to me or the people down there was Tertius, and he's the only one of you I'd trust!_"

"_That's a shame,_" he wave dismissively. "_With him suspended and you unwilling to cooperate, I'm afraid you're going to be here for quite awhile._"

"_What...?_" she breathed, sitting back. "_He...he's suspended?_"

"_Because of you, yes. Now we're down one man and I have no one to replace him other than the brats right out of the Academy. I hope you're happy with your actions._"

Bailey paused the feed after that, turning the screen back around. More questions than answers were running through Tertius's brain, his finger twitching subconsciously. The commander picked up his drink again and took in a long, thoughtful sip, rubbing his tired eyes.

"It kind of goes on like that for another eight hours," he stated. "There were periods where she was left by herself. Kept from food and water. Marinus told me himself that he wanted to be sure he got every bit of information from her."

"His methods are..." Tertius started to express his sentiments, restraining himself from saying anything that would be inappropriate.

"Troublesome," Bailey filled in for him, "but that's the least of our concerns right now."

"So there _is_ someone working the batarians?"

"We don't know that yet. We can't take any risks, though, particularly if she can identify who spoke with the terrorist the few nights before he died."

"She didn't see his face?" The commander shook his head, Tertius sighing. "We certainly are starting with the bare minimum. There's one thing I don't understand, sir. Why me? I'm not exactly qualified for this kind of work."

"It's like she said, you're the only one she trusts," he replied, sitting back. Tertius could almost see the grin form on his face again. "Besides, you being so unqualified to take care of a human makes you that much more eligible to make sure no one knows she's here."

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand, sir."

"She trusts you. That's better than all the interrogation techniques or intelligence gathering we have. She'll listen to you, keep her head low for the time being while we get this sorted out." He paused, his features turning serious. "Marinus asked me to head this operation, saying I would be more suited for the job while he took care of the weapons smuggling that's been running rampant in the Lower Wards. For once, I agree with him. With hostilities on the rise and the amount of people skills this will take to run successfully, I'm just glad he took the initiative to pass this one over. He said he would give his recommendation of a few officers he trusts to handle the investigation, and once that's in order all the information I receive I'll send your way. See if she can recall anything else, particularly if there's any audio to analyze."

"What am I suppose to say if anyone asks of her whereabouts?" he inquired. "Her parents could be arriving any day."

"I'll keep track of the refugee lists. If they show up, we can hand her over and get them all out of here. It would be easier than keeping them in witness protection, anyway. In the meantime, say that she's gone with her parents. I've already falsified a report saying she's been escorted off the Citadel."

Tertius narrowed his gaze, drawing out his words, "But isn't that—"

"Safer? More efficient than filing a witness protection notification?" he interrupted. "Just don't tell Marinus or God help us with the fit he'd throw."

"Sir, if I may be so bold," he began, his talon tapping against the chair's armrest. "I think Mar...I mean, Ms. Bell had a point."

He could tell Bailey was about to say something other than the topic he was trying to bring up, raising his brow slightly. The commander nodded, however, signaling that he could continue.

"It's not a secret Commander Marinus isn't a fan of humans. The batarians have been known to have a troubled history with them as well, especially after the Alpha Relay was destroyed. Do you think it's possible he may have some connection in this?"

Bailey sat back in his chair, thinking of what to say. "If he was going to try something, he would have already done it. Marinus may dislike humans, but his feelings aren't unfounded."

Tertius was surprised by his answer, wondering why he would ever admit the turian commander had a reason to hate his kind. He let the thought go, though, when Bailey grabbed the datapad at the far end of his desk, clearing his throat with an uneasy cough.

"Just make sure she stays alive and this will go much more smoothly," he joked dryly. "If anyone asks, you're still on suspension and she's no longer on the Citadel. If you have any more questions be sure to contact me on a secure channel or come to my office. Is that clear, Officer Aquilin?"

"Yes, sir," he affirmed, standing.

"You're dismissed," Bailey stated, staring at his datapad before glancing up when Tertius had reached the exit. "Oh, and Tertius?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Wear something more casual. You're suspended, remember? Making me have bad flashbacks of walking around in that armor."

"Um, yes, sir," he answered, slightly confused by what he meant but deciding to take his superior officer's advice regardless.

He sighed walking out into the embassy lobby, lifting his muted omni-tool into sight. It felt strange, knowing that he was still going to be on duty when he really wasn't suppose to be. Still, at least he found comfort in knowing he was doing something important, even if it was something as small as looking after a human girl. Then again, maybe it wasn't so small; he was in charge of keeping her out of harms way, even if it meant putting his own life on the line. The thought made him remember something else that was important to him, pressing a few dials on the hologram above his wrist to check his communicator.

"_You have no new messages,_" an automated voice rang out. Tertius flared his mandibles in disappointment, but he continued on his way, knowing there would be plenty of time left in the day to check again later.

Tertius went about collecting the items on Mary's list with relative ease, finding a few dealers in the Upper Wards market that sold human goods and cuisine. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't locate everything that was deemed crucial enough to write down, particularly whatever 'shampoo' was. One of the merchants said it was for their hair, but when Tertius asked which one of the multiple shelves of colorful bottles would be appropriate, the man just gazed at him with a dumbfounded, blank expression. While he didn't exactly want to tread into the store near his home, he knew the woman shopkeeper would be a lot more helpful.

Dee Dee was sweeping the outside of her workplace with a fervor he had never seen from her before, mumbling something to herself with irritation when dust kept billowing up from the cracks in the cement. She stopped when she saw movement in the corner of her eye, placing her hand on her back as she stood straight. The woman grinned wide when she saw he was walking in her direction.

"Come for more of my services, have you?" she questioned, Tertius rolling his eyes. He watched her frown when she saw the bags in his arms, dramatically placing a hand on the side of her face and batting her eyelashes. "Officer Aquilin, I'm _hurt_. Cheating on me with another retail establishment!"

"It was on the way back, Dee Dee," he answered, stepping past her and into the store. He could feel her eyes following him. "Now are you going to sell me some things or not?"

"Oh, I could never stay mad at you," she laughed, placing the broom against the inside window and pacing her way to the counter. "So what can I get you?"

"I need, uh..." He took a look at the note again. "Shampoo."

"Eh?" she vocalized, raising on eyebrow. Though he opened his mouth to reply, she snatched the piece of paper from his fingers, looking it over herself. Her gaze returned to him slowly, leaning her chin against her hand. "_Tertius_, is there something you're not telling me?"

"What? What do you mean?" he chuckled nervously. There was only one job he had to do and already he felt like he had screwed up. Two years after meeting the woman, he should have known she would see past his basic shopping needs for the real reason he needed the items. Any other store owner would have minded their own business, but even he was surprised with how much she began to push the issue.

"You don't need any of these things, and from the looks of that take-out bag I'd say it was for a human." She stared him down for a moment before suddenly pushing against the counter, gasping, "Tertius, are you dating a human woman?"

"_What?_" he belted out a laugh, adjusting his voice quickly by clearing his throat. "I mean, no, absolutely not."

"A...human man, then?"

"What? No!" he huffed, taking the note back from her. "Look, are you going to help me out or not?"

She twisted her lips suspiciously, crossing her arms. "Not until you tell me why."

He rubbed his forehead, turning away to check down the aisles. "Fine, I'll get it myself."

"But shampoo is really important, you know!" she yelled after him, her high-heeled shoes clicking behind him. He always wondered why some women always felt the need to wear them; they looked terribly uncomfortable and, after seeing some ladies struggle to stand after being on their feet all day, he knew he couldn't be too far off from the truth.

"Really? Then what's it for? One of the merchants in the Upper Wards said it was for your hair," he said, stopping in front of the shelves that held similar objects to the ones he saw before.

"Well, it is," she confirmed, shrugging as she picked at her thumbnail. "Human women are rather particular about what kind they get, though." Dee Dee paused, smacking him on the arm. "And you went to the _Upper Wards_? I would've had the same stuff here for half the price! Shame on you!"

"At least in the Upper Wards I don't get shamed," he pointed out, Dee Dee giggling for some reason.

"Oh, love, not the best choice of words," she mumbled, resisting the urge to say anything more by biting her lip. "If this is for a human lady, you better be sure to pick out the right one."

"And why is that?" he finally turned his gaze towards her. The look on her face appeared as if she were only messing with him, but he didn't want to chance a potential health risk. He wasn't kidding when he said Mary couldn't go back to the hospital, and that statement had become even more true.

"Well, why do you think there's so many kinds?" she motioned to the bottles. "Every one of these is specifically made for a certain hair type, and there can be some pretty serious repercussions if we don't use the right one."

He sighed in frustration, "Are you going to tell me which one I should chose, then?"

She smirked, "Are you going to tell me her name?"

They stared at each other for a long minute of silence, Dee Dee's smile spreading with each passing second. She had him cornered and she knew it. Quickly glancing around the store and out into the hall, his head moved back and forth nervously, not wanting to say anything but feeling like he had no other choice. At least he had an alibi to go off from, knowing he wouldn't be forced to leave without what he needed.

"Yes, there's a girl, okay?" he said in as much of a whisper as he could. "But you can't tell anyone. It's strictly confidential and of high priority to C-Sec."

"Ooh, C-Sec secrets," she wiggled her shoulders with intrigue. When he suddenly reached out and held them still, however, her face became stunned, her eyes widening.

"Dee Dee, you cannot tell _anyone_. I mean it. Do you understand?" He was a little taken aback when she didn't say anything, watching her return to normal when she waved a hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Now what's her name?" she smiled again.

He stood straight, scratching his chin. "Her name's Mary. She has blond hair of...similar consistency to yours."

"_Okay_..." she said thoughtfully, placing her hands on her hips. "Why are you getting this stuff for her?"

"Dee Dee—"

"No, I should know why. The type of shampoo can also differ depending on where she's using it, although that's not as important as what kind of hair a woman has. It matters if she's going to be using this on a shuttle or on another planet or...you know...in your apartment."

"Off Citadel," he replied bluntly, knowing exactly where she was going with that statement. "She's departing this evening and I was told to get these items for her, considering they will be hard to come by after she leaves. There? Are you happy with that answer?"

She stuck her tongue out slightly from behind her teeth, reaching over without even looking and choosing a yellow container. Returning to her place behind to counter, she rang up the total on the stationary computer monitor, placing the item in another plastic bag for him to carry.

"Should I charge this to C-Sec's account?" she inquired, watching him take the bag with his only remaining finger.

"No, uh...I'll pay for it," he said, trying to think of a way to obtain his credits.

She laughed, "Do you want me to reach in and get your money for you?"

Tertius halted his futile attempts, sighing as he shook his head. "Why do you always have to give me such a hard time?"

"Because I _care_," she jeered. There was an underlying tone in her voice that suggested she wanted to say something more, but her face remained plastered with a grin. "Just come by later and pay me back when you have a free hand."

"Please tell me that's not another human expression with a double meaning," he stated, backing out towards the exit. He blinked when the thought about it more, chuckling with embarrassment, "On second thought, I don't want to know."

Dee Dee pressed her lips together as she nodded, waving goodbye. There was something almost ominous in her eyes, as if he would find out eventually what she meant anyway. Still, he tried not to think about it too much, the food in his arms starting to grow cold.

The lights of the Tayseri Ward were beginning to dim for the night time hours when he returned to the apartment, managing to open the door after shifting the bags in his hands. He found the room quiet, wondering if she was taking a nap as he set the items down on the dining table. Inspecting the couch and finding she wasn't there, he glanced over to the bathroom, noticing the door was closed. Tertius shrugged as he walked to it, knocking lightly when he didn't hear the shower running.

"Mary, are you in there?" he asked, reconsidering his words when he remembered there really wasn't anywhere else she could be.

He waited for a reply that never came. Standing back, he thought to check the closet and his room, only to have the door open a little and her hand emerge with a piece of paper. Without a word he paused, lowering his brow with question. He reached out slowly and took it after she began moving her arm up and down forcefully, the door slamming shut and latching once more.

"Is everything okay in there?" he spoke cautiously, unsure if he should make his way to grab his gun. For all he knew she was being held hostage.

"You need to go back to the store," he heard her say from beyond the metal entryway.

"But I was just at the store," he objected, gazing down at the new, shorter list she had just handed him. "I got everything on the last one. Can't these things wait—"

"No, they can't wait!" she shouted, making him jump slightly.

His shifted his weight to one foot, putting his hand on his head. "Then can you at least explain what these things are for this time?"

"What?"

"I said can you at least—"

"No, what do you mean _explain it to you_? I...No! I'm not going to talk about this with a grown, _turian_ man!"

His mandibles twitched in confusion. "What does that have anything to do with the things on this list?"

"If you don't want to go then I'll get it myself! C-Sec orders or not!"

"No, no," he protested, holding up his hands as if she could see him. "I'll be right back. Just don't go anywhere."

Tertius took off his uniform and armor before heading out the door again, agitated with the lack of communication she just decided to throw at him. He had gotten everything on her list, even the shampoo. What more could she possibly _need_? There was a hinting suspicion in the back of his mind that he had a long few weeks ahead of him. It didn't help that most of the stores on his way out of the Ward were already closing for the night, finding that even Dee Dee was scrolling down the metal coverings of her windows. The less people he may have had to justify his late night shopping to the better, and it wasn't like he hadn't given a reasonable, unquestionable explanation to her already.

"Dee Dee!" he shouted from across the hall, the woman looking up before she shut the entrance.

"Back so soon?" she smiled, holding the door open as he ran up. "And with a new look, I see. I've never seen you out of your fatigues."

He caught his breath when he stopped, holding out the note he still held in his hand. "I just need a couple more things. I forgot to pick them up earlier."

She took it from him and examined it, tapping the side of her face. Dee Dee pursed her red lips after a moment, her eyes narrowing. Raising her arm and snapping her index finger on its joint to beckon him inside, she remained quiet as she let him step past her, shutting the door behind them.

"_Departing_, huh?" she began sternly, crossing her arms.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: Thank you for your concern, guys. :) Everything turned out okay here, (just a crap ton of wind the next day, basically), but I hope everyone else is alright. On a much lighter note, my last day this semester is tomorrow, (yay!), so hopefully I'll be able to write a little more frequently. Also, about the stuff in the story...I like realism in my gamesliterature. I apologize if that's somehow awkward for people. :'D That is all.


	8. Golden Fleece

Chapter 7

Golden [Fleece]

He wasn't entirely sure what was worse—the stagnant boredom he was situated in or the multiple levels of concern he was feeling. With his feet stretched out on the low-lying table, his tired eyes stared blankly at the vid screen, his mind too absorbed in other things to focus on whatever the news was talking about. Leaning against the back of his fingers, his elbow propped against one of the armrests of the couch, he glanced again over at the red-numbered clock situated over the stove. It hadn't corrected itself since the power flickered earlier that day, Tertius finding it annoying but not having enough motivation to change it himself.

It had been a few days since he spoke with Commander Bailey, and since then he hadn't gotten any word on the investigation. In fact, he had barely heard from _anyone_, including the warm body that was cocooned in a blanket on the other side of the sofa. After he received a long speech from the shopkeeper down in the market area, (which yielded no results on actually understanding what had been on the second list), he returned with the items and a few other things Dee Dee suggested. Mary spent most of the time sleeping in an unmoving ball, wedged between the other armrest and the back space between the cushions. Despite his best efforts to retrieve different kinds of food and convince her to eat, she barely picked up anything, most of the unconsumed portions piled in the refrigerator. She didn't even change into anything else, although he was beginning to wonder if any of the clothes he had bought were too small regardless.

The more he sat in silence, mulling over the events that had occurred, the more he began to worry. To do what was necessary, he was required to tell Dee Dee the truth. There had been a look in her eyes that when she said it was important, she _meant_ it, confessing that the situation wasn't like the hair product earlier. She figured it out on her own, but she made him tell her that the girl was still on the Citadel. Dee Dee didn't press where she was or why she was around, though, and, before he said anything, she reassured him that the cameras that used to be in the Ward were no longer working. She emphasized her point by standing on the counter and ripping the wire from the recorder above the entrance. He was thankful for her attempts to put him at ease, and that she gathered everything on the list and then some without any further questions. What surprised him was that it almost seemed like she knew what Mary was going through without even meeting her, handing him a green bottle of painkillers made for humans and a small package of clothes, which she explicitly said not to open. Mary, though pale and worn out, was almost ecstatic to see the added products, mumbling something along the lines of how he would know to get it. He figured that had been a rhetorical question when the girl took two pills and planted herself facing away from the window. Even if Dee Dee had been kind enough to once again give an extension on his payment, completely neglecting to take his credits out of his uniform before he took it off, the fact that she _knew_ bothered him. He felt like he had a good grasp on a person's character most of the time, but he just couldn't be sure; he had seen much nicer people screw over others before.

What daunted him the most, however, or at least what threw him almost into a state of lethargy, was that he still hadn't heard from his brother. Though the messages didn't have dates, his omni-tool kept telling him that he hadn't received anything, Tertius starting to dread every time the system took too long to check. He tried not to think of what might be waiting for him on hold from the Hierarchy, just waiting for conformation from the masses of bodies piling up on the front lines. He tried, but as the days went on he was failing, internally becoming frustrated with himself and the state of affairs he had no control over. The walks to get food helped to clear his mind, and he even went a lap around the Presidium when he was feeling particularly down, but it only worked for so long. Eventually he would have to return to the apartment, to his thoughts and the quietness that enhanced them.

Something suddenly startled him from his hindered spirit, feeling a light poke underneath his rips. He looked to his side to find her leg stretching out from underneath the blanket, her big toe inching away from him. The images of the screen on the other side of the room were dancing in the reflection of her eyes, dozily gazing at him. Tertius shifted in his seat, bringing his feet down to the floor.

"Hey, you're up," he said softly. "How did you sleep?"

"Okay," her voice scratched, attempting to sit up straight. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, glancing to the clock again to find it still wasn't set. "The power went out earlier so I haven't really gone around to check."

"Couldn't you check your datapad?" she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He paused, wanting to avoid looking at it again. It was ridiculous of him not to, though, grabbing it from off the table to check. Tertius was surprised it was later than he expected, but sighed quietly to himself to find there wasn't anything new.

"Pretty late. Are you hungry at all? I ordered something called...a vegetable omelet? It was yellow with green bits in it."

She felt herself become queasy with the thought of food, placing her head beside her on the vertical cushion and shaking her head. "No, I'm okay."

"You should really eat something," he stated, his back becoming tense in growing agitation as he darted his eyes to the vid screen.

"I'd get sick if I smelled anything right now," she said honestly, noticing that he kept his gaze away.

There was almost a growl rumbling quietly in his throat, placing his head back onto his hand. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her for a time, knowing that she had probably said something to upset him. Her words a few days ago hadn't exactly been the most appreciative, if not impolite, and ignoring his kind offerings for sleep probably didn't help. She wanted to explain her behavior to him, and he deserved an answer; it was just..._really_ awkward, especially since he was a different species. Not wanting him to stay mad, however, she loosened her grip and reached out, tugging at his upper sleeve.

"Thanks, though. I'll eat something tomorrow. Promise," she assured, finally getting him to look back.

He wanted to believe her, believe something definitive, even if it was small. His mandibles twitched slightly, nodding and placing his feet back on the table. She smiled to see him relax, wiggling to the center of the sofa to see the screen better. Tapping the outside of his knee with her extended foot in thought, he chuckled in wonder, watching as she bit her thumbnail.

"Thinking of anything in particular?" he asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Can we watch a vid?" she wondered, bouncing in her seat after a moment. "Oh, can we watch Blasto?"

"Blasto?" he repeated, picking up the remote sticking out of the cushion crevasse at his side. "Aren't you a little too young to be watching that type of thing?"

"Are you kidding?" she frowned. "I saw it three times when it came out!"

"Do your parents know you watched it?" he questioned, waving the control device at her playfully.

"They saw it on their extranet bill..." she pouted, snuggling into the blanket. As he hummed to himself with amusement and sat back, she continued, "So can we watch it?"

He shook his head, shrugging, "Which one? I know Blasto 6 was just released—"

"Blasto _6_? Wait, wait, wait, they made _five more_?" she said excitedly, pulling at his sleeve again. "Oh! Marathon! We should have a marathon!"

Tertius laughed heartily at her response. His joy made her smile return; she didn't think she ever heard him, or anyone, really, sound so happy in a long while. It was almost as if he was blissful out of relief, like her sister used to do when she found out the sticks she would run into in the field weren't snakes wriggling across her foot. Sure, there were still snakes out there to worry about, but for the time being they could be content.

He agreed to watch the first one on the condition that they viewed the rest some other day, jokily saying it was already past her bedtime. She ignored his attempt to make her feel younger than she was and nodded, laying the side of her head onto the couch. Even if she had already seen it enough times to have every word of dialogue memorized, she still wasn't tried of the over-the-top action scenes, the cheesy one-liners, the unintentionally humorous attempt at an unrequited relationship between the hanar spectre and his love interest. Throughout most of the movie she giggled at the normal volume she usually would, until she heard a quiet, raspy inhalation nearby.

She raised her eyebrow in wonder, seeing that Tertius's eyes were shut with his hands clasped together over his stomach. Turians _snored_? Her attention drifted away from the vid screen to the alien sitting beside her, examining his shadowed facial features in the dimmed light. The truth was, the only thing she knew about different species came from the textbooks on her colony. Tertius had actually been the first one she carried on a casual conversation with. Her parents had made sure to keep her from trouble, even when they were required to travel to the large station and other space ports, but it had unfortunately isolated her from the other residents of the galaxy. For the longest time, with all the things she had read, all the things she had been told by people who experienced life outside of humanity's reach, she expected things to be much different. That had been especially true with turians, considering the troubled past their two cultures had. After spending time with him, however, and listening to the perspectives from people on the news that were from the Citadel, she realized that they were pretty similar. She hadn't been necessarily worried about it, but it did make her glad to see they shared some things in common, even if they couldn't eat the same food.

When the movie had finally finished, Mary carefully rose from her seat, going to the closet in the hallway. Pulling a barely used, puffy blanket from off the shelf, she returned to the living room with it unbundled. Turians could get cold too, she figured, remembering the sheets on his own bed from before. Mary placed it over him up to his shoulders, making sure to cover his feet before turning off the vid screen. Returning to her place on the other side of the couch, she rolled herself back up into her own bedding, settling her head into the crook of the armrest.

"Night, Tertius," she whispered, drifting peacefully into slumber once more.

—

In the late hours of the night, a few members of C-Sec were still finishing up their paperwork and various tasks assigned to them throughout the day. A few were asked to stay behind after their shifts at the request of Commander Marinus, though they hadn't been told why. No one was crazy enough to ask. In the testing range of the Lower Wards office, a salarian officer was staring questioningly at a datapad, reviewing the information of a particular rifle. His previous comments had been neglected by the human woman in her mid-thirties who stood next to him, putting together the elongated barrel with almost unnatural ease. She adjusted her dark red hair every so often, frazzled from a long day and poking out from her ponytail every other movement, but didn't flinch in her continuing actions when he spoke.

"Still not ready," he pointed out, addressing a chart of statistical data. "Needs more automated testing. Besides, improvements over the Widow are—"

He jumped when a deafening shot range out, the target at the end of the two-hundred meter range lightening up like a gasoline fire. She blew out the end of the smoking barrel as she turned back, the side of her mouth quirking upwards slightly.

"...Marginal," he finished his thought. She tossed the rifle in his direction, watching him fumble it when he accidentally grabbed the incredibly hot end. He set it down carefully and followed her out, typing in the new results. "Lieutenant, I still suggest more testing. We do not need any more faulty equipment in the field."

She skidded her feet to a stop, sighing as she stared up at the ceiling. Bobbing her head in thought, she half-turned towards to him, waving her hand for the datapad. He offered it without inquiry, the woman pressing a few commands and passing it back with the authorization to do more examinations. Happy with the decision, he continued to arrange another testing session as they made their way into the lobby.

"So, is there anything we should know before the meeting with Commander—"

An arm suddenly crossed over his chest, the lieutenant halting him to view their surroundings. She motioned him to walk around to the back desk, her eyes remaining on the scene near the entrance. A man who had been sitting in a cell for a few days due to a minor infraction was beginning to argue with both the receptionist and the official who had brought him in. They were all obviously tired, but the man didn't want to cooperate with the terms of his release.

"What do you mean you're confiscating my weapons?" he shouted, the asari secretary trying to calm him down while the turian signing his papers shook his head.

"Under Council authority we've been asked to take all weapons that have not been authorized by Citadel personnel," the younger, blue-skinned woman spoke, nervousness setting into her voice. The look on the older, human man's face appeared to have seen many situations far worse than the one he was in, and he made it clear it wouldn't be his last.

"Citadel personnel? I have it under the authority of Commander _goddamn_ Shepard to not only keep my weapons, by find the replacement parts for Jessie! Now hand them over!" He could hear the turian officer puff a snicker, the man twisting his lip into a scowl. "And what the hell are you laughing at?"

"Even if the human commander was here to enforce authority, I doubt it would be wasted on filing a permit for you and this _Jessie_."

The man turned to face him, shoving his shoulder, "You don't know Shepard, or me, or my gun, so don't you ever use them in a sentence again or so help me—"

"And what if I do?" the turian officer taunted. "You're in a Citadel Security office. One wrong move and your ass is back in the slammer."

"_Ahem_."

The two men parted their gaze to view the far side of the room, the female lieutenant leaning against the wall. The turian officer begrudgingly went back to his paperwork as the man in yellow armor tilted his head, trying to remember if he recognized her when she walked up. He grinned after a moment, pointing a finger.

"The rhyming name. Detective Sophia Lalita, right?" he mused, the woman nodding.

"Lieutenant," she corrected, crossing her arms.

"Really? Has it been that long? Shit, I still remember when you were fresh off the boat here. Still working with that commander? What's his name?" He paused, seeing the irritated, sideways glace she was giving everyone in her sight line. "Talkative as ever, I see."

"Is there a reason you're in my precinct, Mr. Massani?" she asked flatly, watching him lean his elbow against the desk.

"Turns out a man can't freely stand wherever he damn well pleases anymore," he replied, looking out into the hall. There were only a few people in the galaxy that gave him a bad vibe to stare directly at; she was one of them. Her sympathies seemed to only exist in the farthest reaches of Dark Space, gone long before he met her on the Citadel when she was fresh out of the Academy. He wouldn't have believed it himself if she hadn't shoved a loaded pistol into his discolored eye when he simply bad-mouth her lack of words. Probably would have pulled the trigger, too, if she didn't have that hard ass of a turian commander around to tell her to stand down at the time. How she ever made it into C-Sec and not one of the notable mercenary organizations, he just didn't know, but that small incident was enough to provide at least some level of respect.

"You were harassing the batarian refugees," the turian officer spoke up from behind, making Zaaed turn his gaze to him.

"I did no such thing! If anything that bastard was harassing me!" he yelled.

"Mr. Massani," she said sternly.

"You repeatedly ignored requests to move, even when the terrorist being investigated was still down there."

"Officer Lexin," she uncrossed her arms.

"Well, he's not there anymore, is he? So why have I been stuck in there for days only for you to take my—"

"_Shut it_, the both of you!"

They were both taken aback by her outburst, a moment of awkward silence drifting in the air.

"...Citadel policy," the turian grumbled.

"Officer Nerva Lexin, get the _hell_ out of my office!" she shouted, slamming her fist into the tabletop. The asari standing behind it jumped, holding the datapad in her hands tightly to her chest. Her eyes fluttered in shock when the lieutenant suddenly looked at her. "Give him back his weapons."

"Ma'am, I have to protest this—" Nerva began, the lieutenant holding up a hand to silence him. She pointed to the door, the officer clinching his jaw, disgruntled. He held out his hand to the asari, "I'll finish the paperwork electronically."

The woman blinked, glancing to the lieutenant and back again. "But this is mine."

"Would you mind me borrowing it?" he said slowly, becoming irritated. "Mine is back at the docks and I'd rather have this finished before breakfast."

"But it's got everyone's paperwork on it, including interrogation records—"

"Just give him the damn datapad!" Zaaed exclaimed, the woman hastily handing it over. As he watched the turian storm out, he returned his gaze to the officer with red hair, seeing that she was glaring at the back of the other man's head until he left. "Don't make them like they used to, do they?"

She let out a sigh of frustration, rubbing her forehead. "How long?"

"Parts will arrive in two weeks. After that I'm out of your hands and you can go back to babysitting," he chuckled, beginning to back away.

"I trust you'll stay out of trouble, Mr. Massani, or I will personally jettison you into space," she replied, pacing over and flipping through the stack of unfinished papers.

"I don't doubt it," he answered, turning on his heels and making his way into the Citadel's general population.

Throwing a fierce glance at the receptionist to return to her duties, she made her way into the back rooms. She found the salarian officer was waiting with another man, a human with short brown hair and a stubbly beard that had been growing since that morning. They were both speculating what they had been called in to do, but silenced themselves in her presence. The human man smiled, though, noticing how distraught she looked. Regardless of what anyone may have thought of her or her habit of saying as little as possible, she was probably one of the more personable officials.

"Have fun with the regular?" he asked, Sophia pulling at the bridge of her nose and taking a seat at the table they congregated around.

"_Immensely_," she replied sarcastically.

"So, it's the witching hour," he continued, leaning against the table. "Any idea what's going on?"

She shrugged a reply, shaking her head. The two men looked at each other with the same thought; it wasn't like Marinus to keep his lieutenant in the dark. She had been around them long enough to know that's what they questioned without even saying it. The human, who went by the name of Ed Mayfield, was a stellar medic and investigator, born a spacer and raised on the Citadel. It annoyed her at times with how much of a carefree attitude he had, like he lived solely, both heart and mind, in the protective bubble of the station. The salarian's name was Nilan Dairu, and although he was a little more serious with his work, focusing on tactical improvements and engineering, his younger age showed just as much. The only one missing from the group that had been asked to stay late was an asari officer named Jaheri Asira, who worked in the Presidium office as a record keeper when she wasn't training other officers in piloting techniques. It had been quite evident for some time that she had a crush on Mayfield, but her Maiden status made her flustered to expanding on the possibilities of dating. Mayfield was, of course, oblivious to the whole thing.

_Babysitting_. Sadly, she couldn't think of another term for the squad she would be stuck with. Still, they weren't bad officers, and she was looking forward to taking a break from the rough-housing in the more seedy areas.

"Puzzling," Nilan began, rubbing his chin. "Not like the commander to say nothing to you."

"Thank you, captain obvious," Ed said, rolling his eyes. "Pretty sure all of us were thinking that."

"Not a captain," he pointed out, confused.

"No, that was..." He sighed, waving his hand shortly. "Never mind."

Foot steps echoed off the walls after a minute, the three of them looking over to the entry hall. Eventually the asari officer they had been waiting for appeared, her purple fingers still tapping across a datapad. She smiled a greeting towards them but remained silent, knowing there was someone walking up from behind. When Commander Bailey emerged suddenly into view, they stood at attention, the lieutenant extending a hand for him to shake.

"Where were you?" Ed whispered when the asari stood next to him. He was sure his superior officers were engaged in a conversation before he spoke.

"Sorry I'm late. Commander Marinus had me running an information check on this girl that was discharged a couple of days ago," she replied softly.

"Let me guess. Human, talked back to him, he got pissed and wanted to find some dirt on her to send her back to prison?"

Surprisingly to him, she shook her head. "No, it wasn't like that. Well, I mean, that did happen and he was upset, but he told me to hand everything over to Commander Bailey—"

"_Ahem_."

The two jumped in nervousness, the salarian standing beside them letting out a small laugh. Bailey had already moved into one of the meeting rooms while Sophia glared at their disrespect, watching them hang their heads as they filed in. She closed the door behind them, the other officers taking a seat at the center table. While they didn't say anything, they were a little taken aback when Commander Bailey unplugged the monitor camera from the wall, checking with his omni-tool to make sure no other electronic devices were activated.

"What I'm about to say does not leave this room," he stated, pulling out a chair. "Understand?"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Props to LeRoux for making me laugh so hard I nearly fell out of my chair that last chapter. I totally agree; homemade, internet cookies for you. XD EDIT: Also added a break between scenes, as suggested. (I wanted to do that anyway, but there are a lot of symbols this site doesn't allow, not to mention breaks. Looking at it more bugged me NOT to have something there. DX)<p> 


	9. Hope Was Here

Chapter Eight

Hope [Was] Here

It took him a few minutes to realize he was awake when he regained consciousness, finding himself unusually comfortable. It only lasted until he lifted his head, however, the sharp pain in his neck shooting down into his lower back and causing a disquieted groan to escape his chest. He questioned how he ever put up with that couch before, and furthermore how the girl sleeping next to him could stand laying there for almost a week. She was curled up away from the window, as she always was, her nose whistling a soft snore. His eyes drew away from the blanket that surrounded her to the one that was over his own shoulders, sitting up and pushing it off in wonder. The last thing he remembered was overhearing a conversation between Blasto and his commanding officer; he must have dozed off, but he was surprised he had so easily. Perhaps it had been her laughing that put him at ease, to know that someone else was around. He pondered if that's what she had meant by 'hearing a heartbeat'.

Tertius looked to the clock above the stove, seeing that it had finally fixed itself. It was late in the morning; just about time to head out and order meals for the day. Pulling the rest of the blanket off his legs, he sat up stiffly, scratching the markings under his eyes with his talons. Though there was plenty of food in the refrigerator, he decided it would be best to start fresh, knowing he should just ask her what she wanted instead of guessing all the time. He stood and rolled his neck, hearing it crack when he turned his gaze to her. Out of her rhythmic breathing he could see that her eyes were twitching beneath her eyelids, dreaming of somewhere far away. He smiled as he reached out a hand, gently shaking her shoulder.

He should have just let her be.

Mary's eyes suddenly flung open when he touched her, sitting up and releasing an ear-splitting scream. He jumped, standing away a little too far as the back of his lower leg bumped into the table. His footing slipped on the carpet, tumbling over the other side and hitting his head against the blinds and the window behind it. Colorful dots filled his vision for a moment before the back of his skull began to throb, seeing that his legs were still bent over the fake wooden surface and that Mary was staring over his toes in stunned silence.

"What...was _that_?" he inquired, shaking his head of any residual dizziness.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, stumbling out of her seat quickly to help him sit up. "I didn't...I mean..."

He could see she was starting to panic, her breathing becoming erratic. Placing the palm of his right hand on her forehead, he checked to make sure her fever hadn't returned and attempted to hold her head still. She stopped with a gasp, but calmed herself. Tertius continued softly, "Bad dream?"

Mary paused, her eyes beginning to dart in short distances. Eventually she nodded, removing his hand off her head by pulling at one of his fingers. "Yeah. I have them every so often."

"Don't we all," he chuckled, leaning his head back. His brain felt like it had dislodged and was swimming around. "I slept pretty good, though. Thanks for the blanket."

She smiled weakly, "I thought you might get cold."

"I've been told turians are naturally cold, both physically and otherwise," he shrugged. "But I'll admit, I hate cold feet."

"Same here," she replied, "especially when you step outside onto cold cement."

"Ah, yeah, _hate_ that," he shook his head, glancing over to her.

Her teeth were gleaming in a grin, but he wondered if she was aware of what she doing. Tertius noticed that she was still holding onto his hand, resting against her knee. As he shifted to sit up straight, pulling his arm away, it became apparent that she hadn't realized. She blinked in surprise and stood timidly to return to the couch, rolling herself back up into the blanket.

"Are you alright?" he asked, smoothing out his clothes when he stood.

"Yeah," she answered, her gaze planted on something across the room.

"Do you want to talk about your dre—"

"No," she said shortly, burying the lower portion of her head into the bedding.

He cleared his throat of the uneasiness that was settling into the room, making his way to the kitchen. In silence he pulled out a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water and walking over to the side of the couch. She looked up when he just stood there for a moment, Tertius holding out the drink for her to have. The corners of her mouth drew upwards, reaching out and taking it with both hands.

"So what do you want to eat today?" he asked, pacing to the vid screen and turning it on to see if there was any news of particular importance.

"Hm?" she murmured over her sipping, raising her brow.

"You said you would eat today. I figured you should have something that hasn't been sitting around for a few days," he pointed out, crossing his arms when he saw the anchors were reciting the weather report.

"Um..." she thought aloud, tapping the edge of the cup against her bottom lip. "How about pizza? Not like a whole pizza or anything. Would a few slices be okay?"

"Sure," he said, nodding. "Just tell me what a pizza is and I'll get it."

She giggled. Again, he wasn't entirely sure what was so funny; humans and their strange sense of humor. He could feel himself smile slightly, however, when Mary began to list the things that made up 'pizza', her anxiety slowly melting away the more she spoke. Mentally recording them carefully, he said he would be back shortly, repeating the same cautions he always would when he left—don't be too loud, don't worry if the lights go out, and to drink her water. She agreed, as she always did, but with more enthusiasm than she had the previous few days. As she turned back to the vid screen when he exited, though, her inner feelings broke free, biting the inside of her lip when a reporter stated the events of the day.

"_Periodic blackouts continue to roll through the Tayseri and Lower Wards as tensions rise over the lack of answers behind them. Citadel Security has declared that it is investigating the incidents, but has yet to comment any further at this time..._"

Tertius returned to the human cuisine district of the Upper Wards like he had before, finding what she had described with relative ease. It looked a little more tasteful than the things he had been getting, but he couldn't say it smelled any less revolting. He had the seller package it up tightly and headed to get his own food, rubbing the back of his still aching head and neck.

The pain made him stop in thought. Perhaps the reason she had a bad dream was because she wasn't getting a good night's sleep. If that was the case, he shuddered to think of getting screamed at every time he had to wake her up, swearing that one of those times she was going to crack the window itself, whether or not he toppled into it. A pink, frilly display caught his eye when he passed it due to his wonder, considering for a time if he should get her a new place to stay. For a time he battled with himself, stepping away when he knew he would risk sneaking it back to the apartment but stepping back when he recognized what good it would do. He huffed at himself after his third attempt to ignore it, figuring he could come up with a reason if anyone asked. He had been buying human food everyday, after all; if someone was going to get suspicious, it was bound to happen eventually. Buying a bed then was as good a time as any.

"Good morning, sir," a volus man respired from where he was arranging nicknacks on a white dresser. "How can I help you today?"

Tertius sized up the bedroom set in the window, knowing he couldn't carry all of it on his own and shrugging. "Just the mattress over there."

"An excellent choice, sir," he thinly complimented. "We just received a shipment of that model yesterday. Are you sure you only want the mattress? The frame is of wonderful quality as well, made from the finest timber on Earth."

The location peaked his interest, but he held up his hands. "I have to carry this back by myself."

"Not a problem, sir! The bed comes in its own assembly box with easy carrying straps. Even a hanar could manage it."

He had a feeling the merchant wasn't going to stop until he made a larger sale. Taking out his credit chit, though, he agreed to pay the fee, wanting to vacate the store quickly. It wasn't like he didn't have any interest in the bed, either; he figured she might appreciate the familiarity of it. The volus signaled to a worker in the back to get his items, moving around the counter situated against the left wall to ring him up.

"Another turian father came in a few weeks ago and bought two for his daughters. He was shipping out and wanted to get something for them. Cutest little asari children," he babbled, waiting for the payment to process.

"Oh, I don't have any children," he pointed out, unsure why he even said it.

"Girlfriend, then? Or sister?" The volus rasped a cough when Tertius began to glare. "My apologizes. I sometimes forget turian customs for discussing relationships."

He took his chit card back without another word, throwing the bed frame's box over his shoulder and carrying the wrapped mattress under his arm when they were brought out to him. The volus spoke an automated goodbye, Tertius waving behind his head to acknowledge him. His feet were almost moving at the pace of a jog, contemplating more about his surroundings than he had originally intended. There were cameras in the walls until he reached the Tayseri Ward, patrol officers that waved as he passed and forcing him to nod a haste reply. Luckily no one stopped him to ask; even Dee Dee looked preoccupied through the window of her store as he looked over. Unfortunately, he had not been paying attention to what was on the other side of the hall.

"Hey, Tertius!"

He could feel a chill run up his back and along the base of his fringe, clenching his jaw. The voice was recognizable, but he was hoping he was only hearing it in his head. Turning to face where he was addressed, his shoulders tensed when it became clear the words had been real.

"Long time, no see," Nerva walked up, holstering his gun at his side. Apparently he was on patrol, but it was strange, considering his usual shift didn't start until after noon. "I heard about your probation. Pretty stupid decision on Marinus's part. Now he's got a bunch of Academy kids running around thinking they're Spectres or something."

Good old Nerva, Tertius thought almost sarcastically in his own mind. Always the tactful one. "It is what it is."

"I guess," he shrugged.

"So, uh, what are you doing here?" he said, trying to think of the quickest conversation possible at that point.

"I was filing paperwork this morning in the Lower Wards," he grumbled. "Lalita was in a foul mood over something and had me finish the work on a datapad."

"Must be getting busy down there from people restless over the war."

"Yeah, that and all these power outages."

Tertius couldn't focus on what he was saying, simply nodding a reply. He just wanted to leave as soon as possible, nearly holding his breath for the talk to end. Though he kept himself half-turned, his attempts to hide the cumbersome furniture were futile, as he subconsciously expected. Nerva's mandibles eventually flicked with curiosity, noticing the bright pink straps on his fellow officer's shoulder.

"What's that?" he inquired, leaning to view the items better.

"Uh..."

Tertius froze. He couldn't think of anything to say. All the reassuring he did meant nothing at that point, his tongue twisting in his mouth. For some reason Mary's voice popped into his head, recalling what she had said when she first came to the apartment. He really _was_ a terrible liar.

Nerva started to grin, crossing his arms. "Don't tell me that's for—"

"Oh, _darling_!" Dee Dee's voice suddenly rang out shrilly in the corridor, making both turians wince. Tertius looked over to her in surprise when she suddenly rushed up and grabbed his arm. "You brought lunch and...is this what you were talking about earlier? It looks so comfortable! I don't know why you were hesitating on getting this for our little love nest!"

His jaw fell open slightly, not entirely sure how to respond. Her red lips smirked their devious flare, tapping his mouth back into place by placing her hand under his chin. She glanced to Nerva, his expression twisted in a way Tertius would describe as nauseated. The only other species Nerva seemed to appreciate for partnerships was the asari, and even then he kept his distance. Humans, on the other hand, with their multitudes dirt-toned skin and hair, had always disturbed him. It was like seeing a smaller, more antagonistic version of an elcor with worse manners than a krogan, Tertius remembered him saying once.

"I'm...sorry, I wasn't aware you had a girlfriend, Tertius," he forced himself to speak as professionally as possible.

"Well, uh," he began promptly, taking advantage of the maneuver Dee Dee had set up, "we like to keep our relationship private. You know, what with inter-species romances being a little strange to some people."

"I'll say," he muttered, scratching his forehead with his talon.

Dee Dee noticed how awkward he felt and decided to run with it for all it was worth, biting her tongue as she moved her arm around Tertius. "We try to keep it quiet anyway, but you know how thin these walls are."

Her wink made him physically cringe, waving a hand as he hurriedly moved past them. "Well, I should get back on patrol. See you, Tertius. It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise," she waved cheerily, her mouth folding into a scowl when she took Tertius by the arm again and watched Nerva move out of hearing distance. "What a creep."

Dee Dee lead him into the store where he could set the mattress down, sitting on the counter and adjusting her skirt. Her face was oddly serious when she gazed at him, Tertius placing his hands against the tabletop.

"The cameras may be gone, but there are eyes in the vents. You need to be more cautious with these things."

"I wasn't expecting to see anyone here, especially him," he sighed, a wave a relief washing over him. "He's usually down at the docks."

"You know him then?"

"His name is Nerva Lexin. He's a patrol officer with C-Sec, and a pretty good tech specialist when he's not being lazy." Tertius figured that, despite Nerva's lack of work ethic, he was a fellow officer and deserved a little more credit for what he did around the Citadel. At least more than Dee Dee was probably allotting to him in her own mind.

"He's a creeper, is what he is," she huffed, staring out the window. "He's been hitting on the asari across the hall all morning. She seems to like it but I can't say I enjoy overhearing that annoying laugh of hers."

"Dee Dee," he said, making her look back. She tilted her head when she saw him extend his hand. "Thank you."

Taking his offer, she smiled again. "Anytime."

It was then he didn't worry about what Dee Dee knew. If she was comfortable pulling a stunt like that so obnoxiously in the light of day, in front of every costumer and merchant that could spread word about her, there was no question in his mind that she was looking out for him. He let her hop off the counter to examine the bedroom accessories as he tried to compose himself, gazing out into the hall to make sure no one else was paying attention to them.

"Expensive stuff," she approved, running her nails along the outer description on the box. "She's a lucky girl. But don't you already have a bed?"

"Not one that she can sleep in," he stated, tapping his talon upon the edge of the desk.

She crossed her arms when she stood, her facial features becoming displeased. "So where's she been sleeping?"

"Where else? The couch."

"The—The _couch_?" she exclaimed, hitting him on the arm. "What's wrong with you? You don't have a lady stay in your home and not offer her a proper place to sleep!"

"But the couch is—" he protested slowly, Dee Dee hitting him again.

"_You_ should be the one sleeping on the couch!" She moved back around the table, exhaling in irritation. "_Men_. Doesn't matter what species you are. You're all so oblivious!"

"And you would know," he jested, Dee Dee throwing a sharp finger in his direction.

"Don't sass me, Mr. Shampoo!" She stood back, sitting on the stool next to her and pacifying her tone. "By the way, did she get the things I sent you?"

He nodded, "Yeah, and she really appreciated it."

"Good," she replied, satisfied with his answer.

"I wanted to ask you about that," he said, Dee Dee raising an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"What to give her. She used all of it to some degree, and I'm just curious how you knew what was going on without even talking to her."

Dee Dee pursed her lips, grabbing a magazine from off the rack to her right. She licked her thumb, staring down and flipping through a few pages. He blinked when she didn't say anything, absorbing the situation as time passed. Finally, he realized why.

"Ah," he opened his mouth a little. "That's one of those things I shouldn't ask about, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," she chuckled, glancing up at him. "You're _learning_. Good for you."

"But seriously, how _do_ you know these things?" he held out his hands, emphasizing his point. "What a person is thinking or feeling? Like the situation out in the hall. Do all humans have this sort inherent mechanism and have I just been...uh..."

"Oblivious?" she laughed, sighing as she shook her head. "To be honest, before I came here I was a psychiatrist. I'm pretty good at figuring out people and the state of affairs going on without ever having to be apart of them."

That was not an answer he was expecting. He leaned his elbows against the counter, genuinely interested. "So...you were a doctor?"

"Yeah, I suppose," she rolled her eyes. "I didn't exactly go to the best school, so my clientele was a little...bland."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me put it this way," she breathed in, straightening her back. "I left Earth because I got tired of hearing about foreign men and women picking up their exotic opposites, whether outfits would fit for Carnival, and gossip involving a pink dolphin in a white hat."

"...What?"

She grinned, and he wasn't entirely sure if her last statement had been serious or not. "Never mind, not important. All you need to know is that living here on the Citadel was the best investment I ever made. Though I have to admit, I do miss solid ground sometimes."

"Why don't you work in the hospital then?" he asked. "It would sure pay more."

"I'd need to get re-certified. Plus the hours would be _horrendous_. Any idea how long they can make your night shifts on a station that never actually has day?"

"Believe me, I do," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"Besides," she reached out, pulling at the end hook of his left mandible, "if I worked in the hospital I'd never be able to see my handsome, turian lover with his strong arms carrying a pink bed."

He batted her hand away, Dee Dee clasping her fingers together with a loud laugh. Picking up the mattress and bed frame once more, he tried to think of something to say to her, if only to get the last word in. Otherwise she would probably hold his inaction to rebuke her statement over his head in the future.

"You might want to tone that kind of talk down or else someone might start to believe you," he grinned after a moment.

"Pfft, don't flatter yourself, honey," she said dismissively, placing a hand on her hip. "Mama Dee Dee is a rolling stone. Haven't had a suitor hold me down yet."

"Suitor?" he scoffed, pacing his way out the door. At least he knew what that term meant. "Like I'd ever become one of those in this day and age, especially with a war going on."

She snickered again, placing her hand on her chin. There was again something in her eyes that wanted to say more, but she resisted, waving goodbye. "Have a good evening, Officer Aquilin."

"You too, Dee Dee," he replied, looking both ways in the hall before exiting.

Tertius made it back to the apartment without any further interruptions, releasing another breath of relief when he reached to open the door. The bags and furniture was a bit unwieldy to maneuver, but he managed to step in before setting anything down. What was strange was that, before he could lift his eyesight from the floor in front of him, he heard pounding footsteps, like someone was running. He glanced up just in time to see Mary's figure retreat into the bathroom, listening to the door close behind her. Straightening his back, he had a feeling she had gotten sick again; she had felt a little warm that morning. Leaving the bed where he placed it against the wall and setting their meals on the dinner table, the vid screen crossed his path when he turned, seeing that there was another news report on. Surprisingly, they were showing an actual vid recorded from the front lines of some salarian colony world. It was static-filled and muted, but the images were quite clear, the terrifying red eye of a Reaper blaring down the camera shot from a zoomed angle. He hastily went to turn it off, stepping up to the bathroom door.

"Is everything okay in there?" he asked, knocking lightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said almost cheerily. Even to him that seemed like an odd reaction.

"Are you sure? Didn't try any of my food out of curiosity, did—" he began to joke, stepping away slightly when she interrupted him.

"I said I'm fine!" Her words sounded choked, Tertius hearing her cough before she continued with a happier tone. "I mean, um...I'm just going to take a shower. These clothes are starting to reek, you know?"

He paused, his nose twitching in thought. And she said _he_ was a terrible liar. It wasn't going to help the situation of her staying there if she couldn't tell him the truth. Regardless of what she had said, it made him a little uneasy knowing that she didn't trust him enough to really say what was going through her head. He didn't need to know everything, but talking about it had to have been better than hiding in the bathroom. Trying to ask her to express her fears, however, would be just as hard as expressing his own. Turians just didn't _do_ those kinds of things.

"Hey, um, if you...you know..." he tried to say, rubbing the back of his neck, "wanted to talk about anything, I'd be here to listen."

"What, are you a shrink now?" she muttered, like she hadn't anticipated him being able to hear it.

He found it slightly humorous that he had just been speaking to one earlier, but the thought didn't escape far enough to make him chuckle. It was instead pushed away, placed in the back of his mind for a more serious consideration. He wrestled with it for the time, finding it hard to even believe his stern upbringing would allow him to fathom saying what he felt. Shrugging, he let his honesty slip through his throat.

"No, can't say I'm qualified for that kind of thing," he tapped his finger involuntarily against the wall. "But I'd be happy to be your friend if you'd let me."

She remained silent when the shower started, Tertius sighing quietly as he examined the room. It was obvious she was upset about something and he couldn't blame her for acting out what was probably normal for humans. He tried to preoccupy himself instead, figuring out where to put her new sleeping area. Seeing that her blanket was hanging over the back of the couch, he remembered where it came from, opening the closet. The size was perfect for the bed, and, while it was a little unorthodox, at least the window wouldn't bother her as much.

He went to work putting together the wooden piece of furniture, finding it a lot more complicated than he had anticipated. The instructions were in a confusing, sideways order with only numbers to say which step came first. All the parts looked the same, some of the screw openings were missing, and there was a t-shaped metal piece that didn't seem to go to anything. High quality, indeed. Between his frustrated curses and throbbing fingers he swore that once he was off his probation he would investigate that volus for fraud. Several splinters and one half-way restart later, he stood back to admire his work, finding that it was pretty close to the one he saw in the window display. He managed to place a few blankets down before he heard the door open in the hallway.

"Hey, before you come out, can you grab me the medi-gel? It's in the top drawer under the sink," he yelled out to her, hearing her feet patter against the tile floor for a little longer.

"Sure," she replied, stepping up to him when he stood against the closest door frame and rubbed his hands. "What did you...do...?"

Her eyes grew wide when she gazed past him, her mouth parting in stunned silence. He rose his brow when he noticed what she was wearing, seeing it was the exact same clothes from that morning. She clearly had no intention of changing, but he decided not to bring it up. Instead, he let her walk by, her hand knocking against the bedpost. His knees were starting to wobble standing there, worn out from the strenuous activity and feeling like he should find a seat. He made his way to the couch, healing his hands and placing the gel onto the table before leaning his head back. There was no reason to be so exhausted, but the stress of the day must have taken it out of him.

"What's this?" he heard her breathe quietly, stepping out from the hall.

"It's a bed," he answered bluntly.

"I know that," she laughed shyly, pulling at the hem of the long shirt she wore. "What's it for?"

"To sleep on," he chuckled, turning his head towards her. "I don't know how you stood this couch for as long as you did."

Mary's eyes fell to the floor, her lips flattening. He wasn't entirely sure what to say to her then, sitting forward with concern. There was a moment he wondered if he had done something wrong, as if a bed was too much of a reminder of something familiar. The idea left him, however, when she quickly went around to the other side of the sofa, hesitating next to him for a few seconds with her view turned away. Eventually and abruptly she sat herself down, her shoulder against his as she curled her legs onto her chest. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the blinds, ignoring his confused appearance.

"Okay," she stated, glancing at his hands every so often.

"Okay?" he asked, pausing when he remembered what he had said earlier. He nodded, his tense muscles relaxing after a while from her being so close. "Okay."

"Can...Can we talk about that dream I had now?" she whispered, tightening the grip on her legs.

"Sure," he replied, situating his legs up onto the table. "Talk about whatever it is that might be bothering you. We've got all the time in the galaxy."


	10. White Light

Chapter Nine

[White] Light

It had been a Tuesday. A week had passed since they were informed of her sister's death, the Alliance skimping on the details until they knew the full story. She remembered them having a memorial service, laying a plot in the ground even when the soil was cold and hard as rock. Her parents had insisted on a proper funeral, though she had questioned why they would bother. The casket was empty save for a few dog tags and flowers.

Mary recalled sitting on her bed, staring out into the wilting grain fields under the moonlight and not thinking of anything in particular. She was still holding onto a small sliver of hope that somewhere, in some way, her sister was still breathing, and that she had just dropped her tags in the conflict that had occurred. As time ticked on painstakingly slow, that feeling was starting to dwindle. It didn't help that the population of the colony just decided to move on. While she figured it was out of politeness that they kept their distance, not saying anything about it after the service, made her fume. It was as if her sister had never existed at all. Maybe they didn't want to be reminded that they were mortal; after all, they were exposing themselves to dangers far greater than themselves by staying on a foreign world. She wanted to believe that was the main reason. Plenty of people had lost others, however, but the silence only seemed to occur when it involved the Alliance. She remembered that in those days she really began to hate the Earth military, not only for taking her sister away, but to do things that made people stop talking about her.

That was not what made up her nightmares, at least not what made her cry out in terror. It was what came next that would always come back. The thoughts she endured were as if they were burned into the back of her mind, forever to be repeatedly retold whenever they saw fit.

There was suddenly a beeping sound coming from her dresser, taking Mary a moment to figure out what it was before springing off her mattress. It was her comm device, an old datapad her sister had given to her when the Alliance upgraded their equipment. At least they had been good for something. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest with excitement when she saw that it was, in fact, a message from her sister's communicator, her hopes becoming rekindled. Without thought she activated it, expecting to see her sibling's face. Surprisingly, the first portion was static, eventually correcting itself. That had never happened before.

"_Good morning, sleepyhead!_" her voice rang out in a split-toned garble, her smile eventually coming into view. "_Or evening...Whenever this message decides to get transmitted to you. Signals have been getting worse by the day, I swear. Anyway, I heard about that A you got on your alien cultural exam! How awesome is that? I promise when I get back I'll take you for lunch, just like I...said..._"

Mary's brow lowered when her sister looked above the device on her wrist, reaching forward quickly. The datapad said the message was paused for a few seconds, as it normally would when the transmission had to be put on hold, but finally it came back with static. The picture flickered into view again, a dim, mechanical humming sound ripping through the silence. She no longer saw her face, but something dark, minor speckles of light dotting the image. It took her a moment while squinting her eyes to suddenly realize she was looking at the sky, slowly moving across the screen. What sounded like brief instances of static then took on the horrible visualization of scrapping dirt, the communicator wiggling out of place and collapsing until it showed the projection of a limp hand.

Her mind tried desperately to tell her to turn off the feed as she subconsciously started to cover her mouth, but she just couldn't pull her eyes away. The empty horizon line, smoldering in the ashes of what once had been, reflected the sky in the wet ground, seemingly endless from above and below. Eventually something else obstructed the view, something wide and shadowed that moved against the camera's direction. More of these objects filled the screen as the recorder was dragged along, some close up, others at a distance. She brought the screen close to her face, trying to make out what they were. The farthest ones looked like towers, blurred in the darkened light and the poor reception, but clearly having some short of blackened bar that was bent over adjacently about a third of the way down. Blue lights flickered on some of them, appearing like clusters that could almost be confused with stars.

The landscape became filled with them, the natural light of the sky fading quickly. Only the black bars and blue lights were set aloft against the darkness as the camera came to a stop. There was the mechanical humming again, louder and more grainy than before. She began to hear something else, however, that started to focus when the device's audio recorder drew away from the dirt. It reminded her of cows grazing, sounding quietly off in the field. It wasn't a cow, though; she knew it hadn't been and it became clear when something else began to echo, making her hands start to tremble.

The black bars were _screaming_.

The recorder was forced off the ground, lifted parallel to the spikes jutting from the soil. She could hear heavy breathing begin to exhale rapidly, like someone was panicking. The image became split and wobbled with interlaced lines as it shook violently, suddenly coming to a halt in the blaring illumination of a large, single red light. She would never forget the noise it made, grinding a vocalized tune that made the muscles in the back of her neck tighten with fear. What was worse was the terrifying scream that followed, abruptly being cut short with the sickening sound of blood curdling across vocal cords as the camera jostled around, exposing a hand and the rest of the landscape when it was lifted into the air. Only the very tops of the pale colored towers could be seen then, bodies speared in different ways and almost forming a plane that could be walked upon. Some were twitching in death, others trying to futilely pull themselves away from their own demise, while others still had turned into the blue-lit creatures she had seen from a distance. The tips of the spikes held up the stars, their light holding down the victims in some vain attempt to be the last thing they would ever see.

Before she threw the datapad away from her, she remembered seeing the hand closest to the screen start to change, decay into a darkened, frail state until lights began to erupt from the dehydrated skin. It was all she could take before she would start to hyperventilate, turning back around before the world started to blacken. Though there would be minor difference in the dream, she would always turn some way to find the walls around her were gone, gazing out into ashen field. A black substance would start to bubble up from the ground, like oil or blood, that mirrored the stars above into her eyes. From it she would see those towers form in the reflection, spinning around and appearing to be coming from all directions, as if forming rows of jagged teeth. The stars would be replaced by blue lights, drawing closer with each eruption of a spike. When the only place left in the world that remained seemed to be the one she was standing on, she would feel something staring from behind, a red light beginning to glow when she slowly turned to look at it. She would always look at it, noticing a searing heat as she screamed that ultimately made her shut her eyes. Her brain would force her to awaken the next moment, every nerve in her being firing rapidly as her muscles painfully tried to relax when she convinced herself it hadn't been real.

An almost alarming silence filled the room when she had finished speaking, Tertius feeling like he was going to be sick. He was staring blankly at his toes, taking in everything she had said. He hadn't even noticed her wrap her arm around the joint of his elbow, her hand grasping his outer most finger. Eventually he managed to take in a breath, turning his gaze unhurriedly towards her.

"It never stopped transmitting," he stated, trying to reason it himself. "Spirits, kid..."

"The Alliance never did tell my parents what happened. I think they knew, they just..." She flattened her lips, her eyelids trembling. "They buried it under the rug."

His mind wanted to recite the protocol for handling such things, since he knew similar information would be restricted to keep the general population from panicking, but he resisted. If it was one human emotion he understood well, it was anger, and somehow he knew she didn't want to hear it. Instead, his feet shifted and became planted on the floor, pondering a thought after a minute.

"Then you...don't really hate space. You just hate the things that could be in it?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, but I never really looked at stars the same way again, either. It definitely made my parents wonder why I always wanted the shutters closed."

"You never told them?" he tilted his head, Mary snorting a wearily laugh.

"And what was I suppose to tell them? Hey guys, guess what? I just got a message of your eldest daughter's final moments before she was dragged away...and impaled..."

He finally noticed the pressure of her hand tightening around his own, glancing down to see the entanglement she had created. His right hand began to tap uneasily, feeling slightly awkward to have her so close. The emotion dissolved, however, when her back suddenly convulsed, holding her forehead with her free hand. He could see she was biting her lip, attempting to maintain her composure. While he knew humans cried because of emotional distress, he was a little surprised when she didn't shed a single tear. If there had been a moment to get upset, he suspected it would have been a reasonable time. Perhaps she didn't feel, or no longer perceived, the situation as saddening as he did.

"You're right," he answered, a withered sigh escaping his chest. "And you're right about the Alliance. They should have been the ones to tell your family in private if they knew, not you. But your sister—"

"Anna," she interrupted, looking up at him with a small smile after a moment. "Her name was Anna."

"Anna," he repeated with a nod, "did what she thought was best. She would want you to be happy knowing she did the right thing."

"I know," she lowered her head. "She just wanted to help those colonists, and she was so happy when she was finally able to go. But I..."

He gently pulled his hand away, placing it on her shoulder as she crossed her arms over her stomach. "I know, but it gets easier."

She huffed another laugh, grinning when she gazed at him with glazed eyes, "You're such a bad liar."

Though he had genuinely tried to provide some sort of support, he had to admit the line was something he remembered learning in C-Sec during troublesome situations. He just wasn't entirely sure what else he could say. The truth he felt was that losing an important person did hurt; it hurt a lot, and the pain never really did go away. It would just manifest itself in other ways, or a person would learn to handle it better. Even so, her reaction was not what he was expecting, especially her smile. Her presence was different then, too, almost lighter and her eyes a little bit brighter.

"But, um..." she said as she tugged at her toes, staring at the stains on the table. "Thanks. I feel a lot better now."

"Keeping something like that to yourself can never be easy," he stated, sitting back.

"No, not really," she replied, beginning to rock in her seat. "You're, um...the first person I've ever told it to."

He paused, trying to think of an appropriate response. Tertius wondered why she would have been silent about it for so long, especially if she lost sleep over it. Maybe they didn't have the correct medical professionals to speak to on her colony. Or perhaps she just didn't have anyone she could trust enough to know what she knew.

Her face became worrisome when he remained quiet, reaching out and tugging on his sleeve. "That's okay, right? I didn't make you mad or anything, did I?"

"Mad?" he chuckled. "Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe I said too much?"

Despite the fact that her story 'topped the cake', as the expression went, he continued anyway. "I've heard a lot working in C-Sec. It would take quite a bit to make me, uh...upset? I guess that's the right term." He reached out, patting her on the head. She seemed to respond well when he placed a hand on her forehead earlier in the day, and that instance wasn't any different, seeing her grin again. "Don't worry about it."

"Hey, Tertius?"

"Hm?" he sounded as he pulled his arm away.

Her smile quivered, but it wasn't quite like it had been before. She was still happy. "Thank you."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "That's it."

"Alright then," he stood, stretching above his head. "Now, how about some dinner? This pizza of yours came by the slice, so I bought three. I hope that's enough."

"Should be plenty!" she replied enthusiastically. "Can you warm it up for me?"

"Sure," he answered, pulling out the contents within the bags on the dinner table.

"Oh, and can we eat on the couch? I really want to watch the next Blasto movie."

"Why not?" he shrugged. He laughed to himself, turning back when he organized their meals carefully onto individual plates. "Just try not to spill anything again, alright?"

"I said I was sorry!" she whined, throwing her arms over the top of the sofa. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, yeah, I believe you," he said and, after warming up the food, returned to his seat on the couch. He let her take a bite before he went on, a smug expression riddled across his face. "So...What did it taste like to a human?"

She just about choked on her pizza, spitting it out into her hand quickly before it burned her tongue. Hitting her chest a couple of times to clear her throat, she narrowed her gaze, eventually sighing.

"Like ship fuel," she muttered, puffing out her cheeks. "At least what I think ship fuel would taste like."

"Huh," he wondered aloud, grabbing the remote off the table. "Funny, that's what I thought it tasted like too."

Mary almost choked on the next bite, unable to keep in her laugh. It couldn't have been _that_ amusing, but seeing her behave in such a way was a nice change. In fact, the whole air about her changed, he knew, when they watched the movie. She expressed her joy a bit louder, was a little less tense sitting there, and actually spoke up when there were cultural aspects she didn't understand. Of course, some of those questions were a little difficult to answer; Tertius would sometimes avoid it by asking about other things the movie addressed in regards to humans that he already knew. That, however, was beside the point. She was _talking_. That was all that mattered.

By the time the credits rolled, he found that she was sound asleep, the side of her face squished against the back cushion. Her nose didn't whistle like it had before, breathing at a slower, deeper pace. He had a feeling that she would slip into slumber, but continued to play the awful sequel in case she had only dozed off. As he reached to shake her shoulder, however, he realized that she was out cold. He even snapped his fingers by her ear to get her to wake up, finding no results. Maybe reciting her dream really did help more than he had expected, falling into a heavy sleep that she probably hadn't had in years.

He stood tiredly, fussing with the remote until he managed to shut off the vid screen. Though he didn't want to wake her, he wasn't about to let her spend one more night on that couch, especially if there was a chance of her nightmare returning. He took her arm and placed it behind his neck, supporting her back as he carried her under her knees. There was a moment he considered what to do if she had shut the closet door, but he was thankful to find it open, stepping inside and setting her on the pillow and assorted sheets. Reaching above and grabbing another blanket, he placed it over her, seeing her groggily mumble something. Her eyes flickered open, looking around to gather her surroundings before groaning.

"Dang it," she grumbled, flopping her head back onto the pillow. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, leaning against the door frame. "Trust me, you didn't miss much. The third one is much better."

"Okay," she said. "Can we watch it tomorrow?"

"Sure, just as long as you stay awake next time," he joked as he headed into the hallway.

"I promise," she giggled, snuggling into the bedding. "Night, Tertius."

"Good night, Mary," he replied softly, quietly closing her door behind him to find some sleep of his own.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I thought about writing more for this one, but after going back through and proof-reading what I had I figured it would be plenty to chew on for a while, (considering how long some of those paragraphs are). I will certainly have more for the next chapter. Thank you to Llandaryn for picking out some of those grammatical errors in the last chapter; that's what I get for writing at three in the morning watching Conan the Barbarian in between, lol. Also, LeRoux, keep doing what you do, long rambling and all. I have never been more impressed by an analytical dissection of one of my stories, (and yes, you pretty much hit the nail on the head *sagely bow*). And a big thank you to everyone for the lovely reviews! Seriously, I will be sure to try and finish this because of you guys. But that's enough of my gushing...this story isn't even done. D: EDIT: If anyone went back and read the reviews, the 'nerves standing on end' portion is no longer there. That's because it was more of a saying people use around where I live, but then I remembered this is an international site, (let alone different U.S. regions). o_o; I agree it could be confusing and sound pretty strange. So tweaked for everyone. :D<p> 


	11. Tough As Nails

Chapter Ten

Tough [As] Nails

"Excuse me, sir, can I ask you a few questions?"

Throughout the holding area of E24, murmurs were beginning to circulate over the recent appearance of Citadel Security detectives. Wherever they went, they would ask for any information and opinions anyone wanted to comment about the disturbance involving the decreased terrorist. Many happily provided a statement filled with snide remarks and obscenities, particularly from those close to the memorial wall. Some took a little coaxing from the officers, particularly when the skittish asari was loudly denied a remark several times and needed someone else to follow up. No one would even attempt to say no to the darkly dressed lieutenant.

It had been three days since Commander Bailey described the situation and entrusted them with their assignment. Since then, a plan of action had been devised to not only track down who could have been conspiring with the known criminal, but to determine the motive behind potentially working with Cerberus. It would have been simple to say that the batarians wanted to hit mankind hard for what they felt was done to them, and in retribution someone else—perhaps a human, perhaps someone who sympathized with them—had settled the score. There were plenty of people there who would have, and could have, easily done so. Yet the small amount of information they had, given to them by a girl who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, made their hunt all the more extensive.

They started by gathering audio samples from anyone who had been around at the time of the incident. This was so that anyone observing them could conclude they were just preforming a routine followup. Instead, they would be sure to accurately gather all batarian refugee sound bites and clean them in detail later, sorting them by age and the importance in the community. Bailey would then send them along to the witness for analysis, where they could come back and make an arrest quickly and efficiently. It was practically a fool-proof plan, but with the growing number of refugees the task seemed to be taking longer than it should have. People were growing anxious by their presence, especially when nearly everyone didn't see anything to investigate. By that day, even if they only had a few more individuals to speak with, tensions were at their worst.

"You can ask all you'd like, but I will not be so gracious to give you an answer," the batarian man stated in a low growl, Asira holding her datapad recorder closer to herself.

"Sir, if you would be so kind, Citadel Security could really use your help—" she followed him shortly down the path next to the crates before he turned back to her, waving a forceful hand.

"I said no! I have nothing to say to you or the other dogs of the Council!" he shouted, the surrounding environment growing quiet.

It only took a few moments for the other detectives in charge of the case to come up beside her, many of the regular patrol officers standing by with their hands at the ready. Lieutenant Lalita glanced over at the situation, asking her interviewee to finish their statement calmly. She wanted to see how the newer recruits would handle such a stressful situation, considering things were a little different than how they were trained to react in the Lower Wards. It required a certain finesse, a way with words that could get him to speak what they wanted without actually believing he was.

Unfortunately, none of them had gotten that memo.

Mayfield was the first to finish with his work and step between the two parties, waving his hands in front of him to try to diffuse the situation. His height and stature didn't hurt to make the batarian man back away slightly, but eventually the initial intimidation factor wore off, making him grow even more aggressive. It also didn't help that he was being talked down to by a human, both physically and, what he perceived to be, mentally.

"Hey, now, there's no need to get upset. Officer Asira was just trying to do her job," he spoke peacefully.

"Perhaps you are uncomfortable speaking with our coworker," their salarian companion, Officer Dairu, said quickly, standing to the right of the others. "Would you care to speak with one of us instead?"

"No, I would not _care_ do to anything of the sort!" the man spat, throwing an accusing finger in Mayfield's face. "And don't assume I have no reason to be upset, human! You are in no position to speak to me in such a way!"

A grin started to form on Mayfield's face as a paused drifted in the air. Lieutenant Lalita noticed where the conversation was about to go and groaned quietly, excusing herself to start walking over. With both her fellow officers there, Asira felt her courage return. She stepped forward again and held her datapad lower on her arms, expecting to finally get the interview they needed.

"Due to the sensitive nature of our follow-up investigation, yeah, as Citadel Security officers we _do_ have the authority to ask you to make a statement," he answered, crossing his arms.

"It doesn't have to be long, sir," Asira stated with a smile, tapping the record button before holding out the device. "If you could just say a few words—"

The batarian man suddenly lashed out, knocking the pad forcefully out of her hands. She winced when the intensity of the blow made her wrists flick on their joints, painfully popping. Stepping back behind the others, she watched Dairu reach for the gun on his hip as Mayfield prepared to shove the man away, the batarian balling his hands into fists. Before any of them could make a move, however, one of the man's arms was grabbed from behind, twisting violently behind him until his shoulder cracked. He shouted in agony, kneeling when the arm was lifted further. There was a hot breath on the back of his neck before he could see a face emerge in the corner of his eyes.

"Touch them again and this arm is mine," Lalita whispered, kicking the back on his other leg to make him fall onto both knees.

"You have no right to do this!" he shouted defiantly, the lieutenant huffing as she reached for the handcuffs at her side.

"You're under arrest for assaulting a Citadel Security officer," she replied bluntly, forcing him back on his feet when his wrists were tied firmly behind his back.

"What? That's preposterous! I didn't touch her!" he retorted, Lalita shoving him along.

"I don't know, I saw you hit her. Did anyone else see—" Mayfield began smugly, silencing himself when his commanding officer piercingly stared in his direction. "Right, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

Lalita nodded her head at the datapad as she pushed the man along, Asira hurriedly gathering it into her hands and following the other officials out of the docks. The lieutenant could hear them discussing what had happened between the batarian's continued objections to his detainment, Dairu running a diagnostic with his omni-tool on Asira's wrists to make sure they weren't sprained and Mayfield rotated them to inspect for any physical signs of long-term stress. While she wanted to tell them to wait, that they should really be monitoring the area for any potential hostile activities before they reached the Lower Wards, she let them continue. It seemed like a good team building exercise, if that was any excuse, but she knew she had it covered. Her blood was boiling enough to rip the man's trigger finger off by hand if she had to. Finesse be _damned_; whether Mayfield had been overly cocky or not, no one touched her squad members. _No one_.

When they had made it back to the C-Sec offices, she motioned for Dairu to fill out the paperwork and for the other two to follow to the holding cells. Finding the farthest one available from the entrance, she released his binds and shoved him into the cramped room, the door locking shut behind him. Taking the datapad from Asira, she typed in a new recording entry, opening the view port and pressing a green button just below it to activate the communication system.

"You answer everything Officer Asira asks and your time here will go a lot smoother. Understand?" she rose her voice to be heard.

"I will have you fired for thi—" he shouted back, cut short when she released the feed with a grin.

She turned to the officers, handing back the flat device to the asari. "Stay until he talks. I'm sure he has plenty to babble on about."

"Does he have to say anything in particular?" she asked, tapping her nails along the edges of the datapad.

"Not really. We just need enough words to examine," she replied, waving for Mayfield to follow her out.

"How long should be it?"

She shrugged, "Ten minutes or so, unless you can stand more."

Asira smiled, nodding with the encouragement and taking in a breath before she watched the human officers move into the hallway once more. When the door closed behind them, Lalita abruptly turned to Mayfield, the man jumping back slightly in surprise. Scrunching her lips to the right, she reached out, flicking him in the forehead with her thumb and index finger. He grumbled quietly, rubbing his face and sighing after a moment.

"I screwed that up, I know," he nodded, straightening his back. "But I mean...he started it!"

The lieutenant hesitated with a slow blink, not quite believing what he had just said and that he had been serious. Her brow rose, crossing her arms and shifting her weight onto one foot. He considered why she was gazing at him in disgruntled disbelief, shrugging.

"I know that's no excuse," he continued when she shook her head, trailing her down to her office. "I just keep forgetting protocol when it comes to close quarter negotiations. I'm a med guy, you know? I usually come in after the talk goes bad."

"The talk shouldn't _get_ bad," she snapped, waving a hand on the side of her head for emphasis. "You should never have to draw your gun unless it's unavoidable. _That_ incident back there could have been prevented."

"Is that how you learned to shoot an unaided rifle at five-hundred yards?" he asked curiously, half serious and half as a comeback.

Her feet suddenly scuffed to a stop, the grin he wore falling to the floor. Very rarely did she ever become upset in some way or another, but when she was angered everyone seemed to notice it. There was almost a darkened presence about her, the lightness in her brown eyes fading. She twirled on her toes to face him again, grabbing the collar of his uniform. To see her aim the deeply ridden fury towards him made his eyelids blink in nervousness, beginning to realize one of the potential reasons why someone like Marinus would want her as a lieutenant. Her general nature was pleasant to be around, but to stare back into her speechless gaze was absolutely terrifying.

"Yes," she admitted, tightening her grip, "and it's three-hundred yards. Now don't ever ask me that again."

"Y-yes, ma'am," he stuttered, adjusting his shirt when Lalita let him go. He swallowed his nerves into his stomach to allow himself to move and followed her through the door.

For the purposes of the investigation, her office had been reassigned farther from the main lobby. It was segmented into different areas, containing a main lounge, a smaller room that was separated by a door and a wall of windows, and a technical room that was down a small hall. Most of the work would be done out of sight and in the computer area, but Lalita permitted anything that wasn't highly classified to be done in the lounge. Even she would acknowledge the cramped, darkened space in the back was rather claustrophobic.

Mayfield took a seat at the large, round table in the center of the room next to Dairu; the salarian had already found his way to the office and was inspecting some of the audio files. With his back to the entrance, he began to do the same, glancing up every so often to see what the lieutenant was up to. It was hard to shake her sudden attitude shift, wondering what portion of his questions had set her off. Maybe it was how he asked, or perhaps his behavior had been more than she could be patient with. In either case, he made a note of his actions and tried to think of all the things he should never do or say in front of her again.

"Some of these reactions are fairly puzzling," Dairu broke the silence, placing his datapad down in thought.

"What do you mean?" Mayfield inquired, shifting in his seat when he watched the lieutenant emerge from her office. He was relieved to see she had three bottles of water in her hand, passing them out. She could tell his nerves hadn't subsided and patted him on the shoulder, smiling reassuringly before taking a seat on the sofa across the room. Though it helped, he still felt the need to chug half of the container's contents before relaxing.

"Many of these people are mourning for those who have died, yet they are quite glad that someone else is dead. Quite a paradox."

Mayfield shrugged, "It's just how some people handle their feelings. Most probably don't actually mean it."

"At least to the point of being incriminated," he pointed out, Mayfield nodding. "Still a little troubling, though, especially when sorting is concerned."

"No doubt about that," Mayfield grumbled, taking another sip.

Dairu sat back slowly in wonder, contemplating something else. After a time he turned sideways in his chair, looking back to the woman who had stretched her legs across the couch with her arms behind her head.

"Speaking of which, if you don't mind me asking, lieutenant," he began, pausing before she nodded permission for him to continue. "It is likely the man did not hit Officer Asira at all. Is there a rule stating what happens to a perpetrator when it's more of an attempted assault?"

Lalita shrugged, sitting up. The salarian's face remained confused, trying to think of how else to word his question.

"Then it was for disorderly conduct?" Again she shrugged, carrying a complacent nod along with it. "Then, lieutenant, was the roughness really necessary?"

A smile formed across her mouth as she sat up, placing the bottle against her hip while she readjusted her ponytail. Dairu gazed back to Mayfield for a potential answer, seeing him begin to chuckle to himself. The human officer set his own datapad down, throwing his arm over the back of his seat.

"She was just making sure it didn't get out of hand. You could even say she's our mother hen," he joked, seeing her flash a glare in his direction. It wasn't like it had been before, however; even in her irritation she found his comment slightly amusing, rolling her eyes when she laid down again.

Dairu shook his head, "Clearly the lieutenant is not a type of poultry."

"What? No!" Mayfield laughed. "A mother hen is term humans use for women who are motherly. Protective, I guess, like a hen is over its chicks."

"Is this true, lieutenant?"

"Bawk begaw," she replied monotonously. Lalita let out a heavy sigh, raising her water into the air as a salute before finishing off what remained in the container.

"Makes sense," Dairu commented, returning to his work on the datapad. "Squads are much like a family unit. Oldest would most likely take on the paternal or maternal role."

"Did you hear that, mom, he called you ol—" he grinned, gazing towards her only to have the metal bottle smack into his nose. He held it shortly after, seeing her point to her eyes with a scowl and then aim those fingers to the datapad on his desk. Nasally, but still with a mild snicker, he continued, "Right, back to work. Sorry, ma'am."

She stood and headed into the back office, fussing with a stack of papers on the desk before sitting down to carry on with another task. Dairu's grin at Mayfield's misfortune eventually faded, his fingers tapping along to sort through the audio files. While his human coworker tried to stay focused, Mayfield couldn't help but glance up every so often, sitting forward on his elbows in thought after a few minutes. The salarian noticed his uneasiness and paused, drawing his eyes away briefly.

"Something troubling you?" he asked.

"I don't get it," he confessed quietly. Dairu blinked in wonder, Mayfield shifting his feet underneath him in worry that she would overhear, despite the fact that the office door was closed. "So...she obviously knows her stuff, right? Everybody knows she's one of the best marksmen around and she can kick ass and chew bubblegum at the same time."

"Not so sure why the bubblegum aspect is important, but yes, you would be correct," he replied.

"So then why is she _here_? I mean, I know Marinus trusts her and that's why she was assigned to this thing, but why does she even bother to stay in the Lower Wards? Clearly she's qualified for better pay in the Special Response units."

"Perhaps it's what she finds herself most suited for," he said, returning his sight to his datapad. "Special Response does require quite a bit more vocal commands."

"And that's another thing," he bobbed his head side to side in slight frustration. "It's not a big secret Marinus dislikes human. He probably hates our guts for whatever reason, and he definitely can't stand it when someone can't give him a straight answer. I can't _fathom_ how it's even possible that she's been his lieutenant for _years_ now. She doesn't act any different around him than the rest of us, to what I've seen." His tangent got the better of him when he heard the entrance door open, passing it off as Asira arriving and attempting to finish. "And what's with her barely speaking? She's a commanding officer, for crying out loud. It's in her job description to boss us around. We also don't know half the stuff we probably should about her. I mean, she gets pissed when I ask her about where she learned how to shoot but then turns around two seconds later and acts like it never even happened. Sometimes I wonder what she did before she ever came to C-Se—"

"Sometimes," a heavy hand fell on Mayfield's shoulder, its talons digging into his shirt slightly, "it's best not to ask."

He turned his head slowly when he recognized the voice, his gaze darting away when Commander Marinus learned over.

"Everyone has scars. Some more obvious than others," the commander stated, his tone strangely calm. "Now, if you continue to disrespect your superior officer, I promise you will have a few more yourself in the near future. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, commander," he nodded quickly, cringing as the Marinus scrapped his claws when he lifted his hand away.

"Back to work, the both of you," he demanded sternly, Lalita finally perking her head up when she heard him.

"Yes, sir," they both said in unison, watching him enter into the office and close the door behind him.

She greeted him with a handshake before he took a seat across from her, the two carrying on in a conversation that was muffled to the other officers' hearing. Even Dairu couldn't help but stare on in wonder, the two of them looking at each other with the same silent question as to what had just happened. The entrance opened again with the patter of small feet, Asira hurriedly stepping in with a smile.

"Got it!" she said excitedly, shutting the door. "What did I miss?"

—

They stared at each other in silence across the dinner table, the digital clock above the stove dully humming. Tertius could hear Mary's foot tapping on the floor, picking at the tan, stringy meal on her plate with a sly smile. She called it 'alfredo', but it took him a while to get over that it looked like innards slathered in some gooey paste. To help take his mind off of it, he proposed that he ask her a few questions for C-Sec, just so they might be able to update her profile more accurately. While his words did hold a little bit of truth, he was genuinely curious himself. She seemed to know it wasn't completely for administration purposes, however, when she paused with a smile, but didn't mention it. Instead, she proclaimed it would only be fair if she asked him something for every one of his questions, even saying they should turn it into a game; the first person to not answer a question would lose. Tertius hesitantly agreed. He was concerned of what she might ask, and he had been right to be worried. Simple questions, like a favorite color and food, eventually turned into stories of childhood fears and general peculiarities about turians. The reason why she sat gazing at him so contently was because she knew she had him stumped, seeing him tap his fingers upon the table in thought. He looked up at her after a time, pointing to the glass of water she barely touched.

"You should really be drinking your water," he stated, Mary sitting forward and aiming her fork at him.

"Don't try stalling!" she exclaimed, placing the utensil back down into the pile of pasta. "Unless you'd rather admit defeat."

"No, I'm just thinking," he grumbled, leaning against the base of his hand. "But I'm serious. You've barely touched your glass all day."

"So? I'm not really thirsty," her smile faded, spinning the thread-like pieces slowly.

"Humor me," he said, "otherwise you don't get to know when my last date was."

"Aww, but I told you mine!" she objected.

"What, that your first and _last_ date was at the boy's house and within an hour of talking with his family you got sick with nerves?" he chuckled, crossing his arms.

"It was food poisoning from a bad lunch!"

"Sure it was."

She glared for a moment before grabbing her water without looking, drinking it completely and firmly setting it back down. "There, better?"

"Much," he nodded. "Now let's see. My last date was...five months ago? Yeah, sounds about right."

"Was she your girlfriend?" Her eyes were big with wonder, clasping her hands together on the edge of the table.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head. "I thought you were only going to ask one question at a time."

"I forfeit my next few turns and you can ask me more," she smiled. "So was she?"

"I'm going to keep track of this," he mumbled, tilting his head back.

He had never felt so awkward by such a simple question; not even Dee Dee had gone that far into his personal life. One side of him just wanted to let it go and be done with the stupid little game. The other side was his pride that wouldn't be bested by her. His latter half would win over his internal argument.

"No, she wasn't. We went out to dinner once," he replied, rubbing his forehead.

"When was your last girlfriend then?"

"I, uh..." he drifted, looking to his side. He noticed in the corner of his eye that she was leaning to see his expression, sitting straight when he gazed forward again. "Dating was never something I was good at. Now can we please change the subject?"

"Wait, you've never had a girlfriend?" she laughed slightly, catching herself and shaking her head. "How come?"

"Like you're one to talk," he said flatly, watching her snicker behind the hand covering her mouth, used to conceal her smile. "And that counts as two."

"One."

"What?"

"That counts as one," she corrected, holding up her index finger for emphasis. "You asked me if we could change the subject, so it got rid of one."

He groaned, "Really?"

"Really. Though now it's zero," she grinned, taking another bite of her food proudly.

Tertius released a heavy sigh from his chest, placing his arms on the table. "No, I haven't. What would be the point of getting into a relationship when most of my time would be committed to security?" He paused, tapping his finger in her direction. "And that was a rhetorical question. It doesn't count."

She nodded without argument, blinking slowly. "So...you never had a crush on anyone?"

"Well, that's different," he said, sitting back. "Before I came to the Citadel, back on my colony, there was this girl I really liked. It was, uh...a little one-sided, since I never actually did tell her I liked her, but..." He waved his hands dismissively, shrugging. "That's really neither here nor there anymore. She wound up getting married to some guy with a large crest and barely a brain between his eyes."

She resisted the urge to laugh by smiling thinly, muttering, "Isn't that always the case?"

His mouth fell open slightly in disbelief, not sure if he was understanding her correctly or if she really _was_ referencing what he thought. Dee Dee's way of speaking was really starting to leave a bad impression on where his mind went when people spoke, just so he wouldn't be fooled so often. "What—"

"Nothing," she said over him, coughing to clear the air. "Your turn now. Ask away."

He let his question go as quickly as possible, deciding to ask the first thing that came to him. "So what do you want to be when you grow up?"

She frowned, her eyelids drooping in annoyance. "I'll be seventeen next month you know. That makes me, what, five years younger than you?"

Tertius had never really done the math, but she did have a point. Calling her 'kid' and referencing her younger age was starting to seem a little strange, though he would never admit it. Being so informal by addressing her on a first name basis was even more unusual to him; he was barely comfortable saying it to people he had known for years. He was, however, beginning to notice it slip past him from time to time.

"Six, adding on a few months to adjust for different calenders," he corrected, "but that's not the point. I meant what do you want to do when you get older?"

Mary smiled happily again, "I want to be a teacher."

"Really?" he tilted his head with wonder. "What kind of teacher?"

"Uh..." Her eyes fell to her plate, beginning to pick at her food. "I want to teach little kids about different cultures."

Somehow, all the questions about turian life were starting to make sense to him. What didn't make sense was her answer, considering how she explained earlier in the conversation that most of her life was isolated to a small human colony. He smirked unhurriedly, the mandibles on his face flaring out a little.

"Wait, if you were on your world for most of your life and barely came to the Citadel, let alone anywhere else...You don't know much about the other people you share a galaxy with, do you?"

"I know a lot!" she proclaimed. "Most of it just came from textbooks."

"Written by humans, right?" he chuckled, finally taking a bite into his own green, leafy food. "There's more to people than what a book can tell you."

"I know, but the books help," she replied. Mary paused to let him eat, sitting straight as she looked to him. "Hey, if I had a question about turians, do you think you could answer it?"

"Isn't that what you've been doing?" he asked, Mary shrugging a response. "Sure, I don't see why not. It's better to hear it from an actual source than, say, stumble upon something inaccurate on the extranet."

She began to twirl her fork around her pasta again, leaning against the back of her hand in thought. He appreciated the few minutes of silence to satisfy his grumbling stomach, consuming at least half his meal within the time before she spoke. Her eyes flicked towards him as he reached for his glass, a small smile quirking on the edges of her mouth.

"Hey, Tertius?"

"Mm?" he mumbled, continuing to wash down a bit of food that was stuck in his throat.

"Where do turian babies comes from?"

Whatever he had in his mouth ended up on the carpet, even spraying onto the blinds at his side. She tried not to laugh when he coughed loudly, hitting his chest to help his airway. Despite his reaction, though, Mary tried to clarify what she meant.

"I mean, I know they have live births, but is it like what humans do or is there a kangaroo thing going on or something else?"

Nothing his pride could do would to get him to answer her. There was a line he just wouldn't cross and she had found it. He noticed that she sat with a grin, appearing as if she had been searching the entire time. Maybe she had been. Maybe she was just waiting for the opportune moment to spring a question that would make him lose the strange game. Before his throat had cleared enough to force him to admit defeat, however, the device on his wrist began to flash, his omni-tool signaling that he had an incoming, restricted transmission. He hurriedly checked to see who it was for multiple reasons, standing a moment later.

"I have to take this. I'll be right back," he said, Mary crossing her arms and frowning when he moved to take the call in his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He activated the communication feed as an orange screen popped up and hovered just above his arm. Only a rectangular space with a thin, centered shape appeared, moving at the sound of the voice on the other side of the line. Tertius regained his composure fast enough to make himself seem professional to his commanding officer, though he was glad he couldn't see him.

"Good evening, Commander Bailey," he said, beginning to pace around the room.

"Evening, Officer Aquilin," the commander's voice fizzled across the channel. "How are things going over there? Haven't run into any trouble, I hope."

"No, sir. No issues to report here." Well, he figured there wasn't any that C-Sec would care to know about. "How is the investigation going?"

"Good. The team working on it has sorted and cleaned all the audio collected from any and all batarians down at the docks," he replied, Tertius's omni-tool beginning to flash and indicating he had an inbound file package. "I'm sending them over now. Have her analyze them and see if she can pick out the man she overheard. Come by my office tomorrow with the results."

"Yes, sir," he answered, accepting the transfer. "Sir, is there any news on her parents?"

There was a long pause, Bailey's sigh scratching in the electronic device. "Not as of yet, but I'll keep you posted if anything comes in. Oh, and Aquilin?"

"Yes, sir?"

"While I appreciate the fact that you're trying to make our witness as comfortable as possible, please refrain from buying any more large pieces of furniture, particularly ones that are bright pink and can be seen from a mile away. If I have to hear one more rumor about you having an elicit affair with some woman down in the Tayseri Ward, I will _really_ put you on probation."

"Uh, about that, sir..."

"Don't worry about it. Haven't gotten a whiff of anyone thinking anything they shouldn't. Just don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir."

The transmission ended, the screen remaining active with the list of files to go through. Even though there were about twenty that his eyes passed over, he knew that it would probably take the rest of the night to get through them. It wasn't that they would be long or hard to understand, but it would be hard for her to listen to. It was nice to forget about the troublesome situation she had found herself in, and he was happy that she _could_ forget. Eventually, however, she would have to be apart of it again. As he stepped out of his room, seeing her weak smile facing him from across the dinner table, he knew that she had already figured out what the call had been about. She would ask anyway just to be sure, though.

"Was that C-Sec?" she inquired, forcing the upward inflection of her tone awkwardly.

"Yeah," he nodded. "They collected some audio files for you to go through."

"Okay," she said, standing with her eyes fixed to her plate. She was beginning to wring her hands when she walked over to the couch. "Can, um...Can you listen to them with me?"

He was confused as to why she would think he wouldn't, but agreed anyway. The way she curled up her legs and slouched in the corner made him pause, opening the closet still at his side and grabbing a blanket. Tertius reassured her that it wouldn't take long and walked up next to her, handing over the puffy bedding. Although he could tell she wanted to make a rebuttal, she simply smiled, wrapping herself up tightly as he took a seat next to her and brought up his omni-tool screen once more.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: I wanted to have this out earlier this week but...ugh. Y U SO SCREWY, WEATHER? Big storms out west equal sprinkles, but small cells moving into the state become storms that flood the roads so I can't get home until six in the morning? ;-; Oh well; it doesn't happen that often and everything was okay here. [knocks on wood that it does happen again for a long while]. Also, thanks again for the corrections on the last chapter, guys. :) You tend to miss stuff when you stare at things for too long, lol.


	12. Snow

Chapter Eleven

[Snow]

She felt like a mouse, tip-toeing as quietly as she could in the kitchen. In the early hours of the morning, when most people would be sound asleep in their beds to prepare for the long day ahead of them, her eyes were wide and darting throughout the room, going from the muted, captioned vid screen to scrambling through the cupboards. After they had gone through all the audio and Mary had distinctively picked out the man she heard before, Tertius appeared as if he would pass out on the couch if he had the chance. She was still awake at the time, but faked a yawn, saying they should both get some rest. He had to get up early to go to C-Sec, after all, so she wasn't about to ask if they could watch another vid or stay up playing 'the questions' game. Mary tried her best to turn her brain off, but all her body would do was toss and turn, inevitably getting up and sneaking out of the closet. She sat for a few more hours in front of the vid screen, flicking mindlessly through silent images of long commercials and news reports. Eventually she found a station that seemed a little more lively, one woman wide-eyed with too much caffeine running around her system from the large cup of coffee in her hand. Mary was surprised that it was a segment showcasing the different restaurants of the Citadel, taking time between each one to prepare a quick and easy meal that 'could be made from the contents of anyone's refrigerator'. A thought grew in her mind as they went through asari and salarian dishes, jumping up during a commercial break to see if she really could make something. When the turian segment came along, she put on a pair of oven mittens that were crammed underneath a few pots and, as quietly as possible, went to work.

The concentration she had to put behind doing everything exactly so and not getting any of the allergic substances on her skin took her mind off the anxiety buried in her subconscious. She wasn't worried about the investigation or how real the danger could be, but the stress of going through the audio lingered. She could hear the batarian man's angered voice in her head, throbbing at the back of her head the more she stayed still and making her bite the inside of her lip. Trying to sleep only made the feeling worse, her stomach doing flips and her eyes wanting to well up with tears. There was no use worrying about it, she knew, and the thought of having Tertius nearby helped. He didn't even have to be _around_ and it helped. She didn't see him as just a C-Sec officer anymore, but the one friend she had left in the galaxy. A very strange, funny friend who tried too hard to make her laugh, but whose questions of concern were some of the very few things keeping her together. Deep down she hoped that he saw her as something more important than just a dumb kid that wound up in witness protection, though it wasn't something she dwelt on. All that mattered was that he tried to let her feel better, and that alone warranted for something other than fast food.

Even in the midst of cooking, however, the silence was getting to her. The buzz of the electricity running through the walls and the bubbling of boiling water couldn't help put her mind at ease after a time. The news report had switched over to a commercial she had seen at least seven times that morning, and standing while patting her gloved hands together made her mind wander. She began to pace around the room, looking up every few minutes in hopes that the clock had magically changed over and she'd be able to move onto another project. It never did, but the rhythmic movement of her feet made her think of something else. For some reason, a tune carried over from her memories, slowly descending into her vocal cords and quietly escaping in the form of a hum. She continued with a smile even when she returned to the kitchen, carefully plating what she could. Straining the pot of steaming green water, she pulled out its contents and carefully started cracking the shells of whatever organism she had just cooked.

Tertius opened one eye slowly when he heard the sound of rattling dishes out in the next room. Turning over onto his side to view the clock on his dresser, he grumbled in aggravation, feeling like he had gotten a lot less sleep than he actually did. He sat up and rubbed the back of his sore neck, practically rolling out of bed and smoothing out his clothes. Walking over to the door, he paused when he considered the time and the noises being made. It was much earlier than she had ever gotten up before. What was even more unusual was that he could hear something else, something he thought could have been coming from the vid screen. It sounded too much like her, though. He made his way into the shadowed hallway unhurriedly, tilting his head in wonder when he noticed her scurrying underneath the kitchen lights.

"You are my hmm hmm, hm-hm-hm hmm hmm..."

She really _was_ singing to herself, her voice sounding scratchy and a little out of key. Even if he had no idea what song it was, her shifted attitude was still pleasant to see, Tertius tiredly smiling. His small moment of amusement faded, however, when he gazed to the numbers above the stove, remembering what time it really was. He finally traveled out into the living room, itching the markings on the side of his face and trying to think of how to word what he wanted to ask. His mind couldn't think of anything subtle or even formulate a salutation in the early hour, though, so he just outright said it.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, he voice a little rough.

Mary jumped slightly, turning to see him standing next to the couch. She smiled a wide, over-tired grin, waving one gloved hand and holding a frying pan with the other.

"Morning! Did you sleep okay?" she asked, scrapping a fork loudly against the pan's surface to finally get the last of the stuck on vegetables she had fried. At least she thought they were vegetables.

"I...Yeah, I'm fine," he replied slowly, trying to comprehend her incredibly fast speech. "But what are you doing?"

"Making breakfast!" she announced, wiping off the edges of the plate with one of her oven mitts and picking it up carefully, beginning to walk over to him. "There was this one news program that was going through a bunch of breakfast meals and they said you could make stuff with the things already in the refrigerator. I was like, _no way_, but I figured to give it a shot. Turns out you did have enough left over to make something!"

She beamed, bouncing on her toes slightly as she held it up to him. He wasn't entirely sure what to say. Even though it did look and smell surprisingly appetizing, Spirits only knew how old some of those leftovers were. Reaching out and taking it from her hesitantly, she held her covered hands together, waiting for him to say something. She glanced at the plate again, however, and took in a breath, holding up one hand before running back to the kitchen. He took a seat at the dining table as she returned with a fork, holding it out triumphantly for him to take. Accepting her offer, he stared down at the meal for a time, attempting to figure out what her reasoning was to make it. She would carry on for him, as if knowing everything he wanted to ask.

"Don't worry, I didn't use any of the human stuff you bought for me, and I took special care not to get anything in it. Even found these neat mitts you had buried in a cupboard," she pointed out, taking a seat across from him.

"What...is this for?" he trailed, finally gazing up at her.

She laughed, "To eat! You've got to go to C-Sec in a few, right?"

His mandibles twitched in a smile, recalling what he had said about her bed. He poked at the food in front of him one last time before picking off a small portion on the end of his fork, a little concerned how it might taste. He noticed her lean forward slightly with anticipation, Tertius sighing inwardly as he finally took a bite. It was chewy and had a very strong, bitter aftertaste, but it was good enough to swallow and even continue eating.

"Not bad," he mused, Mary sitting back with a smile. "A little too much spice, but pretty good."

"Ah, I knew that was too much!" she muttered, taking off her gloves. "They said use a dash and I wasn't exactly sure how to measure it, especially with mittens on."

"No, really, it's good," he reassured, taking another mouthful. He stopped himself after a minute, concern creeping back into his thoughts. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," she admitted, perking up when he stood and walked into the kitchen. "It wasn't because of a bad dream or anything! I was just a little restless."

He reached into the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it with water. She figured it had been to wash out the unpleasantness of his meal, but blinked in surprise when he placed it in front of her, returning to his seat. Though her smile remained as he resumed eating, it faded while staring at the reflective surface and into her own eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly, getting her to look up at him again. "For the food. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's the least I could do," she replied.

"For what?" he asked, sitting straighter.

"For, you know, helping me out. And listening to me. And for the bed and stuff," she listed, her fingers tapping upon the table and her eyes to the side.

He could tell that she was biting the inside of her lip again. While he couldn't be sure why she kept doing it, he connected it to being under an increased amount of stress. She never did it when she was happy or when she was tired or even during an intense part of a vid. It was as if she was trying to keep herself from saying or doing something, unwilling to show him the emotion that was being restrained. He wasn't about to push the issue, however, and especially didn't want to start the morning off with a bad choice of words. Instead, he tried to think of a little more cheerful topic, tapping the prongs of the fork against the plate. When he realized that he was subconsciously carrying the same beat she had been singing earlier, he blinked in thought and cleared his throat.

"So, um...What was the tune?"

"What tune?" She shook her head slightly, confused by what he meant.

"The tune. That song you were singing earlier. What was it?"

"Oh," she laughed with embarrassment, clasping her fingers together on the tabletop. "_That_. That was just, uh...Just an old lullaby."

"A lullaby?" he questioned.

She nodded, "Yeah. It's pretty famous with humans. Has been for quite a while. There's a long version and a short version, but I never really cared for the long one. Grandma always said she preferred the man in black's song, but I never really did ask who she meant."

"Oh, you have a grandmother," he commented, intrigue in his words. He never knew his own grandparents, succumbing to illness and the war between his people and humans before he was born. Still, he always wondered what it would have been like to have them around.

Her smile twitched away briefly, her eyes fluttering in thought. "Yeah. She has this big farm down south. Er, I mean...How would I say that?" She shook her head with a shrug. "Well, anyway, it's on Earth. It's this old plot of land that's been in my family for a long time. The house itself is a couple hundred years old. There's a lake with an old tire swing and a long dirt driveway, and it's lined with trees that have branches wrapped around each other way up above. They're beautiful, especially when the moss hangs down from them."

"Sound nice," he replied, looking down to find he had finished the last of his meal without realizing it.

"Yeah," she said, reaching out and tapping her nails on the bottom edge of her glass. "We use to go there for Christmas every year. Grandma always tried to convince my parents to stay, but they always said no. Apparently she tried to get them not to go to my colony before I was born, but they wanted to do something other than forming artificial fields. Mom was an architect and dad was a horticulturalist."

He paused, noticing something strange about her last few sentences. It was possible he was misunderstanding her again, though, letting his wonder disappear. Standing with his plate in hand, he went to the sink, trying to set the conversation back onto something cheerier.

"So what's it called?" he asked. Mary jumped when she heard his voice, appearing to have been lost in thought.

She turned in her seat to look at him. "What?"

"What's the name of the song?" His fingers twitched when she stared blankly, perhaps confused as to why he would care to know. "Or you could sing it again and I could guess."

"But, wha, um..." she stammered, scratching the side of her face to apparently hide the rosy color forming in her cheeks. Her hands landed on the back of the chair forcefully after a moment, pointing an accusing finger. "No way! Then you'll just taunt me with it like the short thing!"

"Short thing?" he thought aloud, chuckling when he remembered what she was referring to. "Oh. Right."

"See? You totally would!"

"I never said that," he shook his head. "Besides, if I wanted to taunt you I could just hum it. I know that much already."

She eyed him cautiously as if he would break out into the tune within seconds. Tertius felt like he was about to burst with laughter with the look she gave, but kept himself composed enough to watch her begin to grin. Surprisingly she nodded, swiveling back to face her glass.

"Okay, how about this. You figure out what the name is and I'll sing it. Short version or long version. Your choice," she proposed, keeping her head high and carrying a voice that she felt made her sound like a villain. All that was missing was a white cat and fancier attire.

"Another game? Really?" he questioned, gazing to the clock above the stove. When she glanced over her shoulder to see his expression, he shrugged, "Alright, fine. You have a deal. When I figure this out, you're singing the long version."

Mary turned to him again and nodded shortly in agreement, her gaze following him as he traveled back to his bedroom. He disappeared momentarily after he shut the door and returned in new, more professional attire, wearing an official C-Sec shirt and black trousers, presumably made for turians. In his hand he held another shirt, stepping beside her and holding it out for her to take. She raised an eyebrow as she unraveled it, seeing it was an exact replica of the one she had been wearing for almost two weeks.

"If you like the shirt so much at least change into a clean one," he stated, bringing up his omni-tool and checking a few things before heading towards the entrance. "You do have another pair of clothes, you know."

"I know. I tried them on the other day and they were a little tight," she replied, seeing him tilt his head in a disgruntled fashion.

"I figured," he confessed, hesitating before opening the door. "What, um...size you do wear, then? You should probably have something more suitable when your parents get here. That, and something that doesn't smell like turian alcohol." He chuckled slightly with embarrassment. "Spirits know that wouldn't bode well for C-Sec or my job."

Her smile faded the more he spoke, but inhaled to sound more joyful. "Medium in misses. I think you were in the junior department last time."

"Misses. Right," he noted mentally, pressing the green signal to step into the hall. He kept his hand on the door frame as he turned back. "Be sure to drink some water and try to get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."

She nodded to acknowledge he spoke, but it took her a minute after he left to realize he was gone. Her hands finally trembled when she held the newer garment closer to her chest, her arms crossed and her chin resting on her clenched fingers. The floodgates of her worry finally released when she stopped biting her lip, a short, choked sob escaping her chest through her tightened throat. She had done so well to keep a positive demeanor throughout the morning hours, but she couldn't help herself any longer. Her willingness to be stronger, to be more self reliant and dependable, just wasn't enough to keep herself from becoming overwhelmed. She managed to wipe the tears that were forming in her eyes as she ran for the bathroom, desperate the latch the door behind her in case he decided to come back for something.

He had taken everything he would need, however, making his way down to the entrance corridor of the Tayseri Ward. Tertius double checked that he had the audio file placed somewhere to show Commander Bailey quickly, finishing the task by the time he exited the elevator to the main level. His hands drifted over to access the extranet, the tune she had sung really starting to get to him. Regardless of the fact that it had turned into a game he refused to lose, he just wanted to know the name of it so he could put the subject to rest and finally be rid of the simple notes running repeatedly in his mind. Though he tried to think of something more important to focus on, it clung to him so deeply that everything else would be pushed aside. His drive to find a name through a list of hundreds of human lullabies almost made him miss the scene on the other side of the hall. If I hadn't been for his arm suddenly being jerked, he probably wouldn't have even looked up.

"Just the man I want to see!" Dee Dee proclaimed, strangely stern in her comment as she dragged him towards her store.

He hurriedly tapped away the screen of his omni-tool and glanced around, seeing there were quite a few people silently staring at them. One set of eyes in particular belonged to a very perturbed looking asari woman, Tertius recognizing her as the merchant Dee Dee had been gossiping with a while ago. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her gaze was narrow, the woman shifting her weight onto one foot when he finally stood before her.

"See? _This_ is my _boyfriend_. We've been dating for _awhile_," Dee Dee stated loudly, almost as if she was speaking to a child.

The woman scoffed, "That doesn't prove anything! For all I know he owes you something."

"Uh, what's—" Tertius tried to say, Dee Dee stepping forward and interrupting him.

"And what's _that_ suppose to mean?" she questioned, bobbing her head slightly from side to side and placing a hand on her hip.

"_Please_, do you really have to ask that with the way you dress?"

"Excuse me? Like you're one to talk. Everyone and their mother knows about your little _tryst_ with that C-Sec officer. At least I keep my love life private," she snapped, waving a finger in the asari's face. "And what _about_ the way I dress? At least I have the decency to leave _something_ to the imagination!"

He felt like he was watching something on a vid screen, half tempted to start searching for a remote to change the nonexistent channel. There was no way he could figure out how the conversation began with their incessant ranting, but they kept growing antagonistically closer to one another as more eyes found their way over to them. He was even starting to see a few patrol officers turn their attention to the conflict taking place. At the rate their argument was going, things would not end well for any of them, especially if he had to explain to the commander why he was late. He took in a breath slowly, trying to think of something he could do and fast. His fingers twitched with anxiety, mustering all the power he could to do what was completely unorthodox and downright unnerving. Reaching out, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently brushed the side of his head against her hair, his mandibles tapping upon her cheek.

"Darling, it's nothing to get upset over," he breathed through his teeth, trying to make himself sound genuine. "It's probably just a misunderstanding."

Her eyelashes flitted as a grin formed on the edges of her mouth, looking over her shoulder. Apparently she was mustering all her strength as well. In her case, however, she was trying not to laugh. With a defiant gaze she turned her head towards the asari once more, reaching up and tugging at the right side of Tertius's face.

"Jealousy isn't very becoming of you. Perhaps you should stick to your own species for potential bond mates," she said nonchalantly. "Then again, is it really a surprise with that getup that he'd only want one thing from you?"

"I'm still seeing him, thank you!"

"And how many times a day? Oh, and you're welcome. My doctoral expertise on relationships is free to anyone who asks."

The woman's face became almost bright red through her blue skin. She gritted her teeth, appearing to be debating what she should say in retaliation. Instead, she decided to step forward, pressing down and sliding back her shoe upon the toes of Dee Dee's heels. The shopkeeper in his hands didn't stay there for very long, gasping in horror and brushing his fingers off her shoulders. She stepped out of her footwear, picking up the shiny black shoes to inspect the patterned scuff mark. He had never realized how short she was until she stood with her feet planted on the ground; she may have even been shorter than Mary. That was the last thing on his mind, though, when he watched her red painted nails dig into the sole of the same color.

"There, I did _you_ a service. Those things are hideous anyway," the asari gloated, putting her hands on her hips.

"These..." she breathed, almost sounding devastated before a fire became lit in her eyes, "were antique Louboutins, you..._You_! You blue-headed _bitch_!"

Dee Dee prepared to bludgeon the woman in the face as her arm swung above her head, but Tertius managed to grab her wrist before she delivered the blow. She tried to pull free from him, screaming violently with obscenities about the woman, her lineage, and whatever else she could find to directly mock. It got to the point where he could see the stationed C-Sec officials start to move in. Tertius huffed in aggravation and finally wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her flailing about to her store's entrance. He pushed open the door with his foot and tossed her inside, waving a brief, abashed wave at the officers before shutting out the nosy world behind them. Rubbing his forehead, he turned in hearing her continue to grumble something too inaudible to understand. She stepped back into her shoes and crossed her arms before facing him, her angered face sobering when she glanced out the window.

"I'm probably going to regret asking this," he began, swinging his arms loosely at his sides, "but what was that about?"

She didn't reply, her eyes fixed to whatever was behind him. Walking up with a bouncing pace, she grinned wide, running her finger underneath his chin. He flinched at her touch, attempting to shift his stance and stare out the window before she brought his gaze to meet hers.

"Watch him," she spoke harshly, her face remaining what he always recognized as the human appearance for being happy.

He blinked, severely confused. "What?"

"_Him_. The man she's with. The creeper from before," she clarified, curling her head into his shoulder.

"Oh, uh, Nerva?" he said quickly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with her behavior.

"She starting asking questions about our relationship before he decided to walk onto the scene. Put your hands on my back."

"What?" he stood back slightly, Dee Dee pinching her nails into his shirt to keep him from moving too far.

"You want to make this look legitimate or not?" she hissed.

His mandibles flicked in discontent, but did what she commanded, lightly wrapping his arms around her. His talon tapped nervously on her spin as he kept his eyes distantly across the store.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned in a low hum.

"Notice anything strange about what just happened?"

"Other than you trying to use your shoe as a weapon, no. Not really," he replied, feeling her chuckle.

"Sometimes heels are put to better use that way," she said, placing a hand on the left side of his face. "If they really were dating, why didn't he come up to help her? Seems strange that he would just stand there and observe."

She had a valid point. Even if Nerva didn't take his relationship as seriously as Dee Dee might have been suggesting, he _was_ apart of C-Sec. It was possible he wasn't on duty or he was just waiting for one of the other officers to take care of it; that prospect seemed like something Nerva would do. His fingers stopped moving after a time, relaxing in the thought that maybe she was just overstressed. Everyone was on edge, and he suspected that even the usually confident merchant could become struck with worry. He pulled her away gently, finding that her features had become more authentic with her lips flattened in a scowl.

"Don't worry about him. He hates the idea of a human and a turian dating, so why would he want to know the status of our relationship?" he asked, Dee Dee pushing his hands away. "If anything, all he would want to know is if we had broken up yet."

"If I knew what he wanted I wouldn't be so irritated right now," she muttered, walking over and taking a seat on the stool behind the counter. "Just keep an eye on him. I don't trust him."

"Alright, I will," he answered, holding up his hands slightly before placing them on the table. He glanced over through the windows to see that Nerva really had been standing off to the side, though at that moment he was walking out of the Ward with his asari companion. "But don't get too worked up over it, and _please_ don't go starting any more fights. The officers around here have more important things to worry about than a couple of store owners arguing, but they won't put up with it a second time. People at C-Sec are apparently talking about us, and I don't need any more fuel added to that fire by having to reason for your release."

"Oh _really_?" she grinned, leaning her jaw against her hand. "What are they saying? Something good, I hope."

"I don't know and I don't _want_ to know," he admitted. "Just keep yourself out of trouble, alright?"

"As you wish, _meu amor_," she jested, rolling her accent dramatically. "Speaking of trouble, how's your lady been? Admiring her new bed?"

"As much as I can tell from being in the other room." He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes. "Please don't start that kind of talk if you're implying what you usually do."

"Alright," she snickered. "But seriously. How are things?"

"Fine, I guess," he replied, sighing quietly. "I think she's feeling better now. At least she's talking a bit more. Like the other day she wanted to play this game where she would ask one question then I would ask one question, and it turned into a strange conversation about turians and, uh...other things."

"What kind of other things?" she grinned, watching the plates on his face raise in agitation. Shrugging, she waved a hand, "Never mind. Do continue."

"She says she wants to teach children about other cultures, but she's apparently never really experienced anything outside of a small human world and a few textbooks. Can you believe that? Of all the things she would chose for a career path, she wants to study people she's never even met." He chuckled inwardly, guiding his thumb along the side of his face in thought. "You know the first thing she wanted to do when she started feeling better? She wanted to watch Blasto. Not just the first one, but the whole series. That's what we've been watching every night during dinner. Just...sitting on the couch. Watching Blasto. Making fun of the really bad dialogue and turning who could stay up through all of it into a contest. Sometimes I wonder what's running...through..."

He drifted when he looked up, Dee Dee holding an expression he had never seen on her before. It disappeared before he could really observe the gentle smile, her usual grin exposing her teeth.

"What?"

"Hm?" she sounded, lost in her own mind. "Nothing. She does sound better, though."

"I hope so," he replied, standing back. "I need to get going. Try not to draw any more attention to yourself for the rest of the day."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled with a smirk. Her gaze followed him to the door before her face grew serious. "Hey."

"Yeah?" he looked back, his hand on the glass entrance.

"Remember what I said," she stated, watching him nod lightly and head into the main corridor.

The more we walked, the more he wondered if he should have remained in the apartment. He would have answered awkward questions for Mary all day if he had known what he would be faced with. All he wanted was to meet with Commander Bailey, drop off the audio file, find some lunch, and go back home. Instead, he would be bombarded with loud news reports echoing off the Citadel walls, voices continually commenting on something happening in the galaxy. Staying in the small world he had been confined to seemed to do more harm than good; hearing all that was happening in several large waves of information was almost too much for him to handle.

The quarians had apparently joined the fight on Palaven, some speculating that they had finally retaken their home world from the geth. Other said that they were working with their once mortal enemies, but there was not enough evidence to support either claim. Tuchanka seemed to be the only place that was fending off the Reapers well, though there had been a noted increase in the invader's numbers once the krogan forces also lent their aid to the turians. The hanar world had been decimated. Earth was in ruins. It was only a matter of time before Thessia was attacked.

The talk of war made him quickly bring up his omni-tool once he reached the elevator, searching through his messages to see if he had received anything new. He still hadn't heard from his brother in some time, and he inhaled a heavy breath when he saw that wouldn't change. The more the days drew on, the more he began to think of all the things that could have gone wrong. At the very least he wondered if their communications had been cut off or if the Hierarchy had finally stopped soldiers from sending restricted messages, considering the amount of effort it took to restrain many officers from doing it in classified areas and times. At the very worst...

He jumped when his omni-tool suddenly beeped loudly at him, signaling that he had an incoming transmission. Activating it quickly, he noticed that it was once again on a secure channel, though the commander's face appeared in a faded blue screen.

"Commander Bailey, I was just heading to your office," Tertius noted, feeling the elevator come to a stop on the Presidium level.

"No need. I was just reminded that Academy commencement is today," he pointed out, sounding annoyed.

"That's strange. It's a little early for that, isn't it?" he inquired, shuffling out into the hall and standing aside, inspecting his surroundings for any potential onlookers.

"Well, what with Cerberus taking out half our forces, it was decided to move up the graduating class," Bailey said dully. "Apparently the school felt I would be the best speaker, what with working with Shepard and glamorously helping to save the Council with a shot in my stomach."

"That is an impressive feat, sir."

"Yeah, but it's certainly not _glamorous_. It hurt like hell. Just thinking about it makes me ache," he grumbled, the space around him growing darker. He had been walking around to find a more private area, it seemed. "Where are you?"

"Presidium. There's, uh..." He looked from side to side, even around the merchant kiosks and down the flight to stairs to enter the main area. "There's actually no one around. There's a keeper down the hall, but the place is practically deserted."

"Are you that surprised? The damn early birds aren't even up yet!" he objected, more towards the fact that he had to be up at that hour than anything else.

"Early birds, sir?"

"Never mind," he sighed. "Just send me the file. I'll transfer it over to the detectives and if they have any more questions I'll get back with you."

"Yes, sir," he affirmed, bringing up the file and sending it over a protected line. He clacked his jaw, something Dee Dee had said still bothering him. It may have been nothing, but it would have been irresponsible of him to just ignore it, especially given the circumstances. "Sir, I feel that I should note a complaint I received earlier from a shopkeeper in the Tayseri Ward. There's been a C-Sec officer seen quite frequently rendezvousing with an asari merchant."

"And this is important because...?"

"He's not stationed there."

Bailey was silent for a moment, looking off to the side of the screen in thought. "Has he been seen during his shift hours?"

"Not that I know of, but he has been in his uniform during off-hours and well before his shifts start," Tertius shrugged. "It's probably nothing, but it's protocol to mention suspicious behavior."

The commander agreed, "Can't take any chances. Name?"

"Nerva Lexin. He's patrol down in E24."

"Where you were stationed?" he asked, Terius nodding. A wave of questions appeared to wash over his face, intrigued by the location. "Hm. Thank you for mentioning this. We'll see what comes of it. Keep your eyes peeled for anything else."

"Yes, sir."

The call ended and Tertius removed his omni-tool screen from view, pausing to take in the quieted surroundings. Despite his new freedom from work and his desire to go back to the apartment, he decided to preoccupy his time for a little while longer. If he returned too soon, she might be inclined to stay up for whatever reason, be it to watch another vid or to talk with him some more. It wasn't that he minded those ideas, but he knew she needed some sleep. Stepping into to the elevator again, he pressed the button to head for the Upper Wards, considering what to have for lunch.

He tried to eat up as much time as possible, first by meandering around the different shops, then grabbing a meal after his breakfast had worn off, and finally deciding to pick up another two larger orders of food, one for each of them to have for dinner. On his way back, he looked about to see if he could find any available clothing stores that didn't carry tourist-specific gear, eventually stopping in front of a window display. The deep blue color of the dress on a particular mannequin caught his attention, eying it for a time at the oddities it held. It seemed like it would go down to her knees and had sleeves much like the shirt she wore, except tight when extending slightly past the elbow. There were cutouts of what looked to be clouds along the sleeve hem, the garment's seams curving inward at the waist and rounding out again at the hips. Tertius laughed to himself slightly when he realized what was along the circular collar. There were small shapes of crescent moons and five-pointed stars, exposing the plastic skin underneath. If she didn't like space, perhaps she would like to be reminded of its absence. He went in and, after receiving a few stares from the human women in the store, exited quickly with the garment in hand.

Tertius finally returned to the Tayseri Ward, waving a brief salutation to Dee Dee through the window of her store as he passed. Making his way up to the apartment and signaling the door to unlock, he entered to find the main room silent, the vid screen turned off. He placed the food on the dining table and glanced to the couch, seeing she at least hadn't dozed off on the uncomfortable cushions. Taking her dress from out of its bag, he wandered over to the far hallway and noticed that her door was ajar. Thankfully she had decided to disconnect the light that came on every time the closet opened; his electric usage might be through the roof otherwise.

Pressing one finger lightly against the door slats, he peered in, hearing the distinct sound of her nose whistling in a snore. He smiled, relieved in a way that she had finally curled herself up into a blanket and found peace in slumber. The blue dress fell into the crook of the bedpost as he set it down on the backboard, making sure it was somewhere she could see when she awoke. He moved to exit, but hesitated when his shadow drifted away from her face. Her features were similar to what they had been in the hospital, her nose red against her paler skin. It twitched every so often as her breathing flicked the strands of hair that had fallen across her eyes. There was a weak, sinking sensation in his chest, knowing that the disturbance would continue and feeling like he should help her sleep as long as possible. With the edge of his talon, he reached over and gently tucked her hair back behind her ear, watching her sniff subconsciously as he smoothed back the rest behind her head. Content that she wouldn't wake up too soon, he stood back, walking out into the hall and quietly shutting the door behind him.

Seeing her sleep somehow brought peace to his own mind, stretching up towards the ceiling as he went to his own bedroom. With his stomach full and nothing more to do for a few hours, he figured he would take a nap himself, not even bothering to change before lying his tired back down. He turned his head to stare through the tilted blinds at the stars that floated beyond the window, eventually losing consciousness.

Mary's eyes opened a few hours later, yawning and sitting up abruptly. She felt wide awake after her seemingly long rest, her vision adjusting quickly. Though she briefly wondered if Tertius had returned, the blue cloth at the end of the bed put her at ease. She dragged it over to her lap, inspecting it closely as she formed a wide smile. It was soft and made of a fine material, the color becoming vibrant from the light that fell through the spaces in the door. Running her hands along one of the sleeves, she finally noticed the shapes cut along its edge, a laugh cracking from her throat when she realized what they were. She jostled herself onto her feet and decided to put it on, changing out of the long shirt and tugging the dress down over head head until it reached a few inches above her knees. Mary pulled at the clingy fabric around her waist, a little displeased by how tight it was but knowing she was just used to wearing something baggy. There would be a time when she had to start wearing normal clothes again anyway.

She darted out of the closet and panned her gaze around the room, her brow lowering when he was no where to be found in the living room or kitchen area. Noticing that the bathroom was also open, she stepped up to his bedroom door. She reached out to knock but hesitated, questioning whether she should. If he was asleep, she didn't want him to get mad that she woke him up. Still, she did remember him saying that she could talk to him whenever, and she found herself too ecstatic about her new dress.

As his drowsy eyes peeled open, it took him a minute to recognize the noise he was hearing as knocking, progressively growing louder with each repeated pattern. The sound didn't seem urgent, nor did the voice that followed.

"Hey, Tertius?" Mary spoke softly, muffled through the metal door. "Are you awake?"

He sat up and slid to the end of the bed, planting his feet on the carpet and pulling at the side of his face to focus faster. "I am now. Come in."

The door opened and she jumped across the threshold, swinging her arms in front of her. She held herself still by clasping her hands together, smiling and waiting for him to say something. Surprised by her sudden change in appearance, he leaned forward slowly and stared, noting the differences from how the same garment fell on the window model. Her smile remained when he was silent, tugging at her sleeve to show him the cutout pieces.

"Sheep!" she beamed. Tertius's mandibles flared out, thinking that she misspoke a profane word.

"Huh?" he blinked, Mary walking towards him with her arm extended.

"They're sheep!" she proclaimed, shaking her head when he looked on with a bewildered gaze. "You know, fluffy farm animals. Longer faces. They go _bah_."

He laughed at her mimicry, "Sorry, I don't know what that is."

"So you didn't buy it for the sheep?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because...You know...We were talking about lullabies earlier and my name is Mary." She bobbed her head back and forth, picking at her nails before carrying a tune that could have almost been a whisper. "_Mary had a little lamb_..."

Teritus hummed a chuckle, taking her wrist and turning her arm over to examine the shapes more closely. "Not quite the song from earlier, but it will do."

"Hey, we're still on for that!" she protested, pulling herself away and pointing at him. He could see that color was returning to her ghostly-pale cheeks. "You still have to figure out what that was!"

"I haven't forgotten," he stated as he stood, patting her on the back and walking out towards the living room. "I _will_ figure out what that was."

"I'll wait to hear your defeat," she answered proudly, following him with her hands behind her back. Her face grew serious when she stood beside the couch, watching him take out their meals from the bags they remained in and place them on the table. "Oh, and Tertius?"

"Hm?" he mumbled, pacing to the kitchen to find some dishes.

"Thanks for the dress. I really like it."

He glanced over to see she was smiling lightly, wringing her hands and blinking profusely. Though he questioned her behavior, wondering if her nervousness stemmed from his loose responses, she stood quietly with her toes tapping on the floor. Tertius nodded a reply, Mary seeming to take that for an answer as she went to take her place on the sofa.

When he had plated their food and poured her a glass of water, he seated himself into the far corner of the couch next to her, placing their meals on the low-lying table. Grabbing the remote from where it stuck out of a crease in the cushions, he flicked on the vid screen, finding it was still on a news station.

"I don't know if you're hungry, but it's there if you want it," he said as he leaned over and picked up the water, handing it to her. "Is there anything you want to watch today or should we stick to channel surfing?"

She set the glass on her knee, staring at the blinds for a time before looking up at him. "Can we watch a human vid?"

"A human vid?" he repeated, his voice growing skeptical. "What kind of human vid? It's not like that old representation of a how life could be a few galaxies away, is it?"

"No, no more space vids. Promise," she giggled. "I went through the human classics station on the extranet earlier and I saw that it had Miracle on 34th Street."

"Something you've seen before?" he asked, turning the screen to the extranet and scrolling to find what she was mentioning.

She nodded, "Yeah, it's my favorite. We use to watch it at grandma's house every Christmas."

He paused to view its creation date, his brow raising. "It's over two-hundred years old."

"That's why it's a classic," she smiled. "It's also in black and white. Pretty awesome, though, considering the technology they had back then."

"Back before your people even had manned spaceflight, right?" he wondered aloud.

"Yep. Neat, huh?" She put her glass back down on the table, wiggling in her seat. "So can we watch it?"

Before he had a chance to answer, his omni-tool flashed to signal he had a new message. His hopes were raised momentarily as he stood, handing her the remote.

"Drink your water and you have a deal," he stated, walking to his bedroom. "I'll be right back."

He closed the door behind him in case it was a video message, sitting on the edge of his bed before checking the sender. While he was slightly disappointed to see it wasn't from his brother, deep down he we just glad it hadn't been from the Hierarchy. That wave of relief would wash away, however, when he began to read the text transmission from Commander Bailey.

"_Officer Aquilin:_

"_We received another batch of confirmed casualties from the Alliance. Unfortunately, Ms. Bell's parents were on the list. Details are still being withheld, but it's been released that they never made it off their colony. I've made sure their names don't appear on the death reports for the time being to maintain her alibi. Please send my condolences. Try to break it to her as easy as you can._

"—_Commander Bailey_"

His chest compressed, his feet feeling like they had been nailed to the ground. After all the times he had delivered bad news to refugees and Citadel residents, he had never been so stunned to grow still. Those very few words written across the screen resonated in his mind, rereading them a few times to be sure he was really seeing them correctly. They never changed, no matter how much he wanted them to.

The promise of her reuniting with her family had been something he dwelt on since he met her at the docks. To see them again. To laugh with them again. To be _happy_ again. Receiving that message, however, meant that those things would never come to pass. The empathy he felt for her pressed into his own memories, beginning to remember the way he felt when he accepted the news of his own parents' death. If it hadn't been for his work at C-Sec keeping his mind preoccupied, the struggle to face the day and all the miseries it came with would have been much worse. He certainly didn't consider himself as strong of a man as people took him for, and that weakness became clear when he returned to the hallway. His stride slowed when he stood beside the edge of the couch, Mary staring up at him with her knees curled up against her chest and her expression puzzled.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Uh, it was C-Sec," he forced himself to say quickly.

"What did they want?"

Guilt was making the muscles in his back twist, shooting pain into his arms and legs. He knew it was his job to inform her of the passing of her family, potentially leading to a relocation assessment once the investigation was over. No matter how much the logic in his being wanted to say it, he just couldn't.

"It was just a follow-up," he stated, returning to his seat. There was a moment he thought she would call him out on his blatant lie, his talons tapping against the armrest.

She simply smiled, nodding once. "Okay."

They spent the rest of the evening in an awful silence, the words of the vid barely registering with him. Instead, he would only hear her reactions; every laugh she made was like taking a grated board to the back of his neck. He ran circles in his mind of how and when he should tell her, but the more he considered the action, the more frustrated he became with himself. It was protocol to let her know. She needed and deserved to know. Every time he tried to convince himself of this, however, he would always go back to how she looked when she recited her dream. He was concerned for her health and state of mind, and telling her then would likely tear her apart.

The vid kept referencing a human belief. It wasn't any surprise, especially since it was mentioned in the title. He wasn't entirely sure what was required for a 'miracle' to be granted, but he knew she could certainly use one.


	13. Silence and Pin Drops

Chapter Twelve

Silence [And] Pin Drops

It was another two days before their suspect would say anything. Almost immediately after receiving the audio files, C-Sec was allowed to maintain his detainment and make sure he remained in isolation. The man's name, discovered after some diligent research, was Ka'hairal Balak, and it was a wonder why they had not matched his face to his reputation before. He had used an alias to register himself with the Citadel upon entry, justifying his presence by saying he wanted to help the refugees. Not only did he argue his arrest was misjudged on those principles, but also because he had already notified his fleet to aid Commander Shepard in the fight against the Reapers. Officer Mayfield once commented how much the room stunk after he said that bit of information; Lalita was the only one who smiled.

What was troublesome, however, was not that he didn't answer their questions for two days. It was the fact that he wanted to make a deal with them, and quickly, after they insisted that he wouldn't go free until he said what he knew about the terrorist. They even showed him the Council's decree on indefinite confinement for high risk individuals that would not cooperate. It was true that obviously no one wanted to be in prison, but his mannerisms made it seem like he was in a hurry. Whether or not he had legitimate reasons for being there, it was quite obvious he didn't want to stay.

"So, you agree to the terms of your release, provided that you answer our questions to the fullest extent of your knowledge?" Asira spoke while sitting across from their suspect. She was a bit nervous facing the man who had denied her requests for information back at the docks, but Asira had been reassured that it would go well. People respond best to a friendlier face, she was told. Typing a few things into the datapad in her hands, she set it down in the center of the metal table.

"Yes," he agreed begrudgingly, shifting in his chair uneasily. "Let's just get this over with."

"Alright then, first question. What was your connection to the terror suspect named Ghorek?"

His eyes became shifty as he sighed, gazing at the cameras in the ceiling. "Who's watching this?"

"Does it matter?" she asked politely, clasping her hands together.

He stared back at her for a time, eventually shaking his head. "You want to know about Ghorek?"

"Any information you can provide," she stated.

"Fine. Ghorek was a man who felt a vendetta was in order against the atrocities committed against his home world. He lost his family when the Alpha Relay was destroyed, and the Alliance showed no remorse for it."

"Did he commit the crimes he was accused of?"

He paused, leaning forward on his elbows. "The destruction of a civilian vessel abruptly after the Cerberus infiltration? Yes."

"Were you close to him?"

"No," he replied. "I only knew him from the intelligence I was given. That, and from what I overheard in the camp."

"Intelligence from whom?"

"The batarian fleet. I wanted to be sure he wasn't one of ours who decided to take matters into his own hands."

Asira let the air sink for a minute. It was best to pause between questions, she remembered, to observe his behavior after every confession. At that point, he seemed normal.

"And how do you feel about what he did?"

Balak blinked all four of his eyes, crossing his arms. "Does it matter?"

"Please just answer the question."

"I hardly see why this is important. In fact, I hardly see why _any_ of this is important. The man is dead. What more could you people possibly want from him?"

She could tell by the inflection in his voice that he was becoming anxious. Smiling, she decided it was best to bring up the real reason why he was there.

"Sir, you do realize that you've been placed under arrest under suspicion of conspiracy," she stated, watching his face fall into an angered scowl.

"What? Ghorek acted alone in his endeavors!" he exclaimed. "Do you think that just because I'm a batarian you can start pinning all of his faults on the rest of us?"

"No, sir," she shook her head. "We're well aware he acted alone in the civilian shuttle incident. However, we do have evidence to support that you were working with him for another reason."

"And what would that be?"

"To overthrow the Citadel with the aid of Cerberus."

The man appeared as if he would stand in objection, but drew his hands away from the table's surface, gritting his teeth. "That's preposterous! Why would a proud batarian ever work with the likes of human filth?"

Asira tilted her head, his use of certain words catching her attention. "You're not a fan of humans, I take it?"

"They're a disease that decided to crawl up from that dirt planet of theirs and seek to consume all that they touch!"

"Then you're also not a fan of the Alliance?"

"That should be obvious."

"And you would never work with them under any circumstances?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Then why did you give your fleet's allegiance to Commander Shepard?"

He remained silence, his mouth partially open as if to retort. The man was dumbstruck, however, his eyes growing wide with the realization that he had been cornered. She continued to smile, feeling a glimmer of pride sparkle in her heart. Attempting to push it back, she carefully considered what to say next.

"You did say you promised your fleets to the human commander," she pointed out. "If this is true, then the statement you just made would be false. Given your history in the Terminus Systems, though, I do not doubt your sincerity on the issue. Since both would therefore have to be correct, the question remains as to why you would give your support to the people you hate. The only logical conclusion, given that your past history doesn't exactly indicate charity, is that there is something else."

She leaned forward, drawing her hands out slowly on the table as she gazed at him. He tried his best to maintain his composure, his back straightening under the increasing pressure to look away. The man forced himself to stare back at her, however, even as she continued.

"There's something worse. Something that would drive you into the hands of your hated enemies." She pushed the datapad forward slightly, continuing in a hush tone. "You're afraid, but of what? Of Cerberus? Of what they'll do if they find out you've talked? Or...if someone else finds out—"

"Enough!" he shouted, standing and slamming the palms of his hands down. "Is this really the methods of the famed Citadel Security? False accusations and wrongful imprisonments? You people sit on your thrones, looking down on the galaxy, accusing us of being corrupt when you should evaluate yourselves and your worth!"

He knocked the recording device from the table and against the wall, his wrath finally showing its true colors. Asira stood abruptly by his reaction, hearing as the cell door hissed open and the sharp sound of a calibrating pistol whistled in the room. Mayfield appeared beside her, aiming the gun at the man who quickly calmed himself. After Asira walked over cautiously and picked up the datapad from off the floor, the two officers left the man standing there, locking the door shut behind them.

Through the camera lens attached to the ceiling, feeding electrical signals that would compose a picture on the other side of a vid screen, Officer Dairu and the overseeing lieutenant sat in the cramped computer room of her office. They had been monitoring the situation from afar and observing everything that had occurred. Dairu leaned back in subtle amusement at the man's failed attempts to fight back Asira's peaceful interrogation skills. It quickly faded, however, when he glanced at Lalita, her eyes narrow and fixed on the man's movements.

"Something troubling you, ma'am?" he asked, watching her gaze flick down to the control panel in front of them.

"He's not lying," she stated. "I checked with the Alliance. The batarian fleet is theirs to command."

He paused, crossing his arms. "So Asira's attempts to force him into frustration..."

She stood, tapping her hands on the console before looking at him. "Check Ghorek's status in regards to the batarian fleet."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, bringing up C-Sec's database of information as she paced her way into the lounge area.

Something about what he said didn't sit right with her. From his reaction, it was clear that he had been acquainted with the terrorist in some regard and that there was a deeper connection with Cerberus. She could only wonder if Ghorek really _had_ been working on his own, and Balak simply knew about it after the fact, attempting to protect batarian interests. After all, there had been another officer in C-Sec, one that had been affiliated with the Alliance, that turned against them. If it hadn't been for Commander Shepard easing tensions and rallying support for the galactic cause, humans in general might have been lumped in with the impressions Cerberus upheld. The last thing the batarians needed, especially with their dwindling forces, was to be associated on the same level. Perhaps Balak's mention of 'connections with C-Sec' was purely superficial.

Lalita sighed inwardly as she stepped out of the office, seeing that both Mayfield and Asira were standing around. She rolled her eyes from a distance, growing tired of catching their flirtatious banter whenever they had a minute alone. It wasn't until Mayfield glanced up at her did she start to realize they had stopped for another reason. Asira was staring wide-eyed down at her omni-tool, her hand slowly reaching to cover her mouth in shock. The asari couldn't manage to look at the lieutenant when she stood by them.

"It's Thessia," Mayfield answered her silent question in a whisper, the two humans gazing on as Asira's eyes overflowed with tears.

—

He wasn't entirely sure how he had gotten himself into such a situation. Surely he was overtired, riddled with guilt that he still hadn't told her the fate of her parents. He couldn't think of any other reason why he would be sitting there, watching..._that_. Leaning his head against his hand, he could feel his talon press into the markings on his face with both boredom and subconscious embarrassment. There was no comparison to the awkwardness he felt; not even answering her questions had been that bad. With his mind on other things, however, he had agreed to watching whatever she wanted without thinking it through first.

He only realized they were watching _Fleet and Flotilla_ when the opening credits started to role.

Tertius had no idea how she had even heard of the inter-species romance, but she was determined to finally watch it. She seemed enamored by it, quietly taking in all the differences the two dextro-species held, (no matter how inaccurate they were at times). There wasn't a line she didn't listen to with her full attention, Mary laughing at every bad joke. It was almost as if she was comparing how similar some things were to what was in her head, bobbing her head back and forth in thought every so often. She didn't speak through most of the movie, and he was secretly glad for it. Not only did he feel that answering relationship questions would once again be one of the worst possible subjects to talk about, but seeing the budding love story of a quarian and turian on screen was drawing him into a depression. It only reminded him of his brother.

Half-way through the vid, he felt a small tug at his sleeve. He glanced over from where he stared blankly at the wall, seeing that her own gaze had diverted away from the screen. Though she kept reassuring him that she did like the dress he bought, she had changed back into her usual shirt. The black and white garment brought out the graying in her skin even more and, although she smiled brightly, he was concerned that the haze in her eyes was becoming worse.

"Hey, Tertius?" she began, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Mm?" he hummed shortly, lifting his head up slightly from off his fingers.

"How..." She scrunched her face, trying to think of how to word her question. "How do turians show affection?"

He grumbled a sigh. Somehow he knew he should have been expecting something like that. "What?"

"Well, you know," she said, pinching the sides of her cheeks. "How are they suppose to kiss with a mask on and no lips?"

"You watched Blasto. Not every romance involves kissing," he pointed out, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "Besides, that's more of a human activity. Maybe something the asari do, too."

"But he said that turians show their emotions instead of saying them," she noted.

He nodded slowly, "Yes, that's true."

"So then what do they do?"

Without pointing out the obvious, more crude answer, he scratched the markings under his eye in thought. The vid just happened to give a prime example of what he was thinking of at that moment, however, Tertius pointing his free hand at the screen.

"That," he stated. "They do that."

She tilted her head in wonder, squinting one eye. "They...headbutt each other?"

"I wouldn't call it a _headbutt_," he chuckled, crossing his arms. "It's more of an affectionate tap than anything else. Of course, the meaning behind it is different depending on who the recipient is. Something between spouses would be different than, say, between a parent and child."

"_Oh_," she spoke with wonder. "So it's like saying 'I love you' without actually saying it?"

That phrase was still alien to him. _Love_. Because Turians didn't exactly say how they felt, they didn't necessarily use the vague term for the multitude of emotions it was said to represent. It meant so many things to so many different people that hearing someone say it was just strange. Over the years he had slowly learned to try and associate it with certain feelings, though unexpectedly her short example provided a better understanding than anything he had witnessed while working on the Citadel.

When he nodded, her brow rose with a wide grin, holding her hands against her sternum.

"_Aw_, that makes it so much more adorable!" she beamed, sighing quietly.

"_Adorable_?" he muttered, shaking his head. "It's overacted, is what that is. Just like most of this vid."

"Shh! We're going to miss her reply!" she hushed, waving a hand at him as her eyes remained fixed to the screen.

He remained silent out of respect for her request, but it wasn't long before his unhappiness settled in again. Looking to see she was still complacent, biting her thumbnail in anticipation on what would be said next, he stood carefully. She didn't even seem to notice him slip out of the room and head for the hall, activating his omni-tool before heading into his bedroom.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he checked to see if the status of his messages had changed. Unsurprisingly, his inbox was still free of anything new. He leaned forward on his knees and breathed out a heavy sigh, questioning how long it would be before, one way or another, someone would put him out of his misery. His brother was all the family he had left, and even he knew the Hierarchy took that into consideration if they were intending to send him something. They must have had countless amounts of names to go through if it took them that long.

He sorted through his past messages, thinking that hearing his voice might put him at ease. It was unfortunate that the transmissions didn't have dates on them, but at least they were organized by when they were last accessed. A small grin made his mandibles flick out, remembering how humorous the last message was. He decided to watch that first, if only to brighten his mood.

"_Hey, Tertius. __Sorry it took so long to get back to you. The krogan just suddenly showed up a few days ago and doubled our rescue shifts. Can you believe that?_"

Tertius's back straightened in alarm, pausing the vid immediately. That was _not_ the last communication he had received. In fact, he knew that he had never watched that message before. He went back to his omni-tool's main screen, quickly bringing up the vid's properties to determine when it was last viewed. The details didn't say; it only stated that it had been redirected to his datapad. He glanced over his shoulder to see that the flat device was still on his dresser, standing and hurriedly walking around his bed. Taking it in hand and accessing the storage system, the date of its last viewing finally appeared. Apparently, it had been almost two weeks prior. He knew he hadn't used his datapad for message reviews during that time.

He caught his breath, realizing there had only been one other person around at the time. His fingers tapped the back of the pad in growing agitation, descending into frustration as he walked back into the living room. Not even her warm smile could put his tired, troubled mind to rest. In fact, it only made his attitude worsen, kindling into a calm anger.

She gazed up when she saw movement in the corner of her vision, continuing to laugh. "Hey, you just missed it! He proposed to her with some cheesy backdrop of a nebula—"

"Did you access my datapad?" his voice rumbled sternly, waving the device in the air.

Mary's smile fell to the floor. "What?"

The only sound that filled the room was the irritatingly happy giggles of the quarian on the vid screen. Mary quickly reached over to the table and grabbed the remote, turning the noise down. Tertius stood straighter, his talons starting to dig into frame of the communication device.

"Well?" he seethed slowly, watching her eyes grow wide and the side of her bottom lip dive between her teeth.


	14. Everywhere We Turn

Chapter Thirteen

[Everywhere] We Turn

A long, nerve-wracking silence hovered in the air as they stared at one another. Tertius glared with a demand for an answer. Mary gazed back in the hopes that he would stop. She eventually slid off the sofa and stood, pulling at the bottom of her garment's hem. His brow raised when she spoke loudly, her upper body leaning forward with emphasis.

"It was an accident!" she pleaded, pausing when she heard him sigh in frustration. "I was just trying to figure out how to turn the messaging beep off!"

"Then why didn't you tell me after it happened?" he questioned, tossing the object onto the couch. He watched her jump by his actions, stepping away and walking around the back of the furniture.

"Because I...was afraid you'd get mad I was in your room," she confessed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I thought you would check it and see the date!"

"And you don't think I would be mad _now_? Even you should know omni-tool messages don't have dates." His voice began to rise. He didn't intend to speak so harshly, but didn't notice that his tone was heading that way. To a human who had never spoken with an angry turian before, it must have been terrifying. "Did your fever fry your common sense or is that how all human kids are raised?"

"Stop calling me that," she protested softly, her steps stuttering towards him.

"What? _Kid_? That's because you are one!"

"You're someone's kid, too..." her voice trailed within the last few syllables, realizing what she had said.

His eyes became narrow, pacing towards her as his voice thrummed in a low growl. "_Was_ someone's kid. _Was_."

She shifted where she stood, wringing her hands. "I'm sorry, I—"

"I have been going out of my _mind_ wondering what happened to my brother. I have checked my messages nearly every hour for the past few _weeks_ wondering if I'd ever hear from him again. Here I come to find out that not only did I have a message from him, but I've potentially missed my chance to write him back." He noticed her mouth start to twitch, her eyes planted to the side. His emotions got the best of him, aggravated by the feelings her face was trying to hide and settling on saying the first thing that came to him. "Do you think this is a game? Do you think this is funny?"

"No, I—"

"Despite what you may think this isn't some vacation!" he shouted. "We're in the middle of a war and you're in more trouble than you realize!"

"I know that," she replied, her voice cracking slightly.

"Then act like it! Stop it with the games! Stop hiding things! Damn it, just...grow up!"

Her lip continued to move awkwardly before she gazed up at him, her eyes glazed over. "I'm not the one yelling. Or moping around the apartment over things I can't control. Or lying about messages from C-Sec. Maybe I just didn't want to talk to you because you suck at people skills." When she opened her mouth finally speak above a mumble, his mandibles flared out slightly, seeing that her once white teeth were coated red. "You need to grow up a lot more than I do!"

She managed to force back a sob as she ran for the bathroom, latching the door loudly behind her. His short attack of anger died into a calm frustration, looking down at the talon he had been subconsciously pointing at her. He sighed quietly, knowing that Mary's lip had not been bitten out of humor or nervousness. There had been fear in her eyes, and the more he stared at the spot she had been, the more he began to hate himself for it. As much as he wanted to admit it, part of his mind wouldn't let his pride place him in the wrong. He needed time to think, and time to give her peace. With gritted teeth and a huff he headed for the entrance, storming out into the hallway and locking the door shut.

There were at least fifteen regulations he could think of that she had broken, seven of which could have gotten her serious jail time. She had been wrong to open his mail and watch it. She had been wrong not to tell him about it. Everything about the situation read that he was perfectly in the right, particularly when the law was concerned. He would find himself meandering into the Tayseri corridor, however, wondering what right he actually had. She still didn't know about her parents, and he had no idea how he was going to tell her. Not after how he reacted.

He drew his eyes up from the floor as the quiet murmurs of the dying day echoed in his head, glancing around to find most of the shops were closing up. A brief thought crossed his mind when he looked over to Dee Dee's store, wondering if the events from earlier held any repercussions for her. It was nice to think of something else for a moment, squinting after a time when he noticed that she hadn't brought down the metal barriers over the windows yet. He turned and walked over slowly, gazing through the glass panes and curiously not finding any movement. Maybe she really had been arrested. The notion made his head hurt, imagining that she had gone back to confront the asari merchant again and ending up in a holding cell of the Lower Wards next to a bunch of illicit individuals.

Opening the door carefully, he could have sworn he heard mumbling of some kind, leaning his head to peer down the aisles. When he didn't see anyone, he tried to follow the sound, looking over the edge of the counter. He was surprised when he saw her kneeling, uttering something his translator couldn't decipher. Her hands were clasped together and placed against her forehead, a small, beaded necklace wrapped around them. There was a small picture he had never noticed before, the pale faces of a mother and child blending in with ornate gold and silver etchings. They seemed to hold a significance that he was unaware of, considering how focused she was.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly, watching her leap to her feet and turn to him. He couldn't remember the last time he saw a human move that fast.

"Oh! It's you," she laughed weakly with embarrassment, smoothing out her clothes. "I was just...Just praying."

He had heard the tradition for humans was similar to most beliefs, if only with a few differences, but he never took her for the spiritual type. "What for?"

"Well, uh..." she blinked, placing the dark strands of hair that had fallen lose behind her ears. Letting out a breath, her voice became oddly somber with her smile. "For a lot of things."

She obviously didn't want to talk about it and he was in no mood to push her for answers. "What were you speaking? The language, I mean. I couldn't understand it."

"Maybe it wasn't for you to understand," she replied smugly, leaning her elbow against the counter. Noticing his confusion, she shook her head. "It was Latin."

"_Lah-tin_," he articulated slowly. "I'm not familiar with it."

"It's an old human language. Barely ever spoken outside of prayers and holy places. Don't worry, I wasn't saying anything bad about you," she waved her hand dismissively with a grin. His face remained serious through her obvious attempt to get a reaction, Dee Dee standing straighter. "So what are you doing here so late? Shouldn't you be at home having dinner with your lady friend?"

He remained silent, his talons tapping hesitantly on the table. Under normal circumstances he would have just pushed aside her question for something else. Though, he knew under normal circumstances he would have never stopped at her store. In fact, he probably would have never left the apartment in the first place. He recalled, briefly, what her previous occupation had been, and he knew the doubt in his mind had to be put to rest one way or another. It was awkward, and he would probably regret asking her later, but he was just so tired. For a few minutes he contemplated what he wanted to say, instead of potentially screwing up again by listing off whatever came to him. He still wasn't sure if he needed to apologize, but he felt like he should ask what the human formality was anyway.

"Do you, um," he said slowly, rolling his hand in front of him. "Do you have any sheep?"

"Do I...what?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sheep. They're a type of farm animal. They apparently have longer face." He paused to let her answer, but she pressed her lips together, holding back a chuckle. Sighing, he continued in a mumble with his flanged voice, "They go..._bah_."

"No, I'm afraid I don't sell livestock here," she finally belted out, almost falling over the stool next to her. "Unless you meant the toy kind."

His face remained unamused. "That's the social convention among humans, right? You give a gift when you apologize?"

"Well, that depends," she blinked, tilting her head in wonder. When he kept his eyes planted at the counter, she frowned and shook her head. "What did you do?"

"It's...Not really..." he breathed, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"You yelled at her, didn't you?" she said for him coolly.

"I really didn't mean to," he answered quietly, rubbing his forehead. "I was just..."

"Stressed? Tired?" she asked, watching him nod. "Yeah, I can tell. The war may not be here yet, but we've all be feeling it."

_Yet_. The way she said it held an eerily striking manner that made him glance at her, seeing she maintained a hollow grin. It was similar to what she wore the day the Ward stared through her shop's windows. It didn't surprise him, however; many people were cynical about the Citadel's protection, believing it was only a matter of time before the galaxy's problems became their own. In the back of his mind, he was starting to join their numbers, but he refrained from admitting it to himself or others.

"What happened?" she inquired sincerely, leaning her chin into her hands.

"I finally received a message from my brother," he began, trying to swallow his pride as best he could. "Except the message was sent about two weeks ago. She had apparently tried to turn my datapad off and accidentally viewed it. Out of...fear she decided not to tell me."

"Fear of what?"

"That I would get angry with her."

"And you did get angry with her, didn't you?" She hesitated, knowing exactly where he was going. Even if he was a turian, she could read the guilt written all over his face. "Well, it was wrong for her not to say anything—"

"But it was wrong for me to yell at her for it. Spirits, Dee Dee, she's just a kid," he exclaimed quietly. Subconsciously it felt good to say it, but spilling out his words, no matter how hushed his voice tried to be, made his chest start to hurt. It was not a sensation he had ever felt before, and he wanted to be sure it wasn't something he'd ever feel again. "And I just kept calling her that. _Kid_. Like it was demeaning or something. I guess I deserved it when she shot it back in my face, but it...it hurt so damn much to be reminded what I've lost already."

She stood back when he chuckled inwardly, sounding sad. "Tertius..."

"You know what the worst of it was?" he questioned, almost like he hadn't heard her. "When she left me standing there, all I could think about was what I could still lose. Then I realized how selfish that was compared to what happened to her. Her parents are dead and I couldn't even manage to tell her. What kind of turian...What kind of man am I if I can't even do that? I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Maybe I should just call it quits and have Bailey assign someone else to take care of her."

"They'd be guarding her," Dee Dee spoke suddenly.

"What?" he looked up.

Her smile was gone, staring at him intently. With her eyes beginning to twitch, she eventually sighed roughly, reaching around her throat and tugging at a chain. Pulling a small, brass medallion from out of her shirt, she held it out to him and ran her thumb along the back in thought. Tertius was unsure what it represented, displaying a man with a child on his shoulders and several smaller symbols that appeared to be archaic looking aircraft.

"You know what this is?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, can't say I do."

"This is St. Christopher. Or his medal, anyway. He supposedly looks after travelers, bachelors...Well, a lot of people." Her gaze flickered towards him, lowering the jewelry to have him focus on her. "You know why I wear this?"

"Because you travel a lot?" he guessed, though he honestly had no idea.

"Maybe a little," she snickered, looking away. "But no. I wear this because it's all I have. It's all I have left. I have no one looking out for me in this life, and I'm not so sure about the next, either."

He found himself remaining still when she reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly.

"I'm not looking for sympathy, believe me," she continued with an awkward laugh, "but...Listen to me. As children we want to be our own person so badly that sometimes we forget what it actually means. We're in such a hurry that...we end up losing a part of ourselves in the process. We become cold. We're uncaring to those around us, even those who are important to us, only if it means that we can be considered 'grown up'. What is a merchant if he doesn't care what he's selling or to whom? What is a guardian if he doesn't care what he's protecting? If she called you a child then...be _glad_ she considers you her equal and not some grouchy old C-Sec officer only there to do his job. Joke about stupid vids. Laugh about strange games with each other. Enjoy being a 'kid' for as long as you can. Some people don't get to have the pleasure." She released her grip, waving for him to follow her down into the store. "Believe me, she doesn't want you to quit your job any more than you do."

Everything he thought to ask from her previous statement was pushed aside when she said that, pausing his pace and holding out his hands objectively. "And how would you know? Maybe I want to retire early."

She glanced over her shoulder with a growing grin. "With a war going on, you retiring is as likely as...What was it you said earlier? Oh, that's right. Becoming a suitor."

He shook his head with a snort, watching her reach down onto a lower shelf. Despite her joke, she was right. Dee Dee seemed to have confidence that Mary would accept his apology, and he wanted to believe it to be true. As she walked back up to him, handing him a flat card with stickers of the strange creature and a large, puffy representation of it, her grin said what she thought would become of him.

"She'll like the sheep, and everyone loves stickers," she pointed out.

He felt the odd, curly wool of the stuffed animal at his fingertips, observing how small the head and nubby legs were compared to the rest of its body. "_This_ is a sheep? Strange..."

"That's what humans said about turians," she replied snidely, striding past him.

Tertius rolled his eyes and followed her back to the counter, Dee Dee patting the table as he reached into his pocket for his credit chit.

"Don't worry about it," she said.

"Dee Dee, I can pay for it this time, really," he stated, continuing to look for his payment.

"I said don't worry about it," she answered sternly, though remained grinning.

His mandibles twitched in a smile. "Thank you. I appreciate the help."

"Just say what you need to say to make it better. Otherwise I'll come up there myself and wring your chicken thin neck until you do," she laughed, putting her hands on her hips while he opened the entrance door.

"I believe you would," he commented, tapping his talon upon the glass. "Hey, Dee Dee?"

"Hm?"

"You're, uh...You're a good friend."

His assumption that she could use hearing that appeared to be correct, seeing her eyes soften in a way he had never seen before. Her face moved as if she would say something, but she only nodded a reply. For once, he had finally rendered her speechless. She held her arms as he exited and, when he glanced back briefly to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he could have sworn her smile faded.

With a new found sense of encouragement, he quickly went back to the apartment. There was a moment when he hesitated outside the door, wondering what exactly he should say. He had to think it through, unlike the last time they spoke. It would be awkward and difficult, but it had to be done. He wanted it to be done, if only so they could go back to waiting out the worst of the war in peace.

When he signaled the door to open, he peered into the darkened room to find that the vid screen had been turned up again. For a moment he thought that perhaps she had gone back to watching the rest of that awful vid without him, but there was something...off. She stood abruptly when he walked in and the entrance closed, Tertius remaining still in thinking he had startled her. Mary wasn't looking at him, though. Her eyes were wide and fixed to the images on the screen. He turned his attention to it as he slowly walked towards her, eventually recognizing the static images of a battlefield.

"_These vids were smuggled from Berlin almost a week ago! You can't sit there and say that this isn't going on!_"

It was some political banter from a Citadel opinion show, arguing whether or not the Council should be taking more extreme measures in the fight against the Reapers. He knew it wasn't their words that made her stand; Tertius was horrified himself over what they were allowed to show. It was fuzzy and highlighted with barely any color, but it was quite obvious what was happening. Men were trying to bring their comrades down from off the spires they had been impaled on, only to be jumped upon and torn apart by the animated shells they had been turned into. He started to realize then that _husk_ was a pretty appropriate name after all. It was a fleeting thought, however, as her panicked breathing filled the air. Gazing to her, he noticed that her face was contorting into an expression of complete terror, her trembling knees bent back as she hunched over slightly. The only thing separating them was the couch, and although Teritus wanted to at least put a comforting hand on her shoulder, he was still unsure of the status between them. He would later regret his doubt.

"I'm..." she rasped, her body suddenly motionless and a small line of water falling to the edges of her chin. "I'm seeing...stars...?"

His chest took in a hurried breath as her eyes rolled back, toppling over and loudly knocking her head onto the corner of the table. The items he held fell out of his hand and he raced to kneel beside her, watching as a trail of blood began to stain the carpet from the gash in her forehead. He lifted the side of her face to inspect the damage, unsure of how serious it was. Though he didn't entirely know what to do, he glanced about the room quickly, his vision falling upon the medi-gel still placed under the table; at least the both of them had been too lazy to put it back in the bathroom. As he reached for it, he paused, noticing something else dripping onto the floor.

An almost full glass of water had tipped over. He didn't remember her drinking all of the glass he had given her; in fact, she had barely touched it. She had barely touched any of her drinks over those last few days. It was then he realized why she became ill, at least a partial reason. Even if he wondered why she would do such a thing, at that moment he didn't really care. There would be time to ask later when she was better.

He placed probably more than what was necessary over the bleeding, making sure it was healing efficiently. Sitting back, he tried to think of what else had to be done, what else he could even do. Her once heavy breathing had become shallow, her form almost lifeless. He tried desperately to remember what he was trained to do in such a vital situation, putting his hand on his markings and tapping his talons until the sound vibrated against his skull with frustration. Was he suppose to use medi-gel? Would she have an allergic reaction since her opened wound had been against where the Palaven wine had spilled? Was she dying? Should he risk calling a doctor?

If it was one thing he could recall, however, it was that at least they shared something in common. Circulatory systems worked with gravity and elevation. Keep the injured area above the heart and it should slow the wound from opening again if what he did wasn't enough. It was something, at least.

He lifted her back off the floor and slid them both towards the bottom portion of the sofa, setting her between his knees to lean her against his chest. It was the best way he could think of to hold her upright and press his hand against her forehead; he didn't even think of how strange it must have looked for a turian to be practically cradling a human in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. Tertius knew he would have to repeat probably everything he said, but speaking to her like she was awake helped to dampen his nervousness. If anything, perhaps his voice would help her wake up. "I'm sorry for getting angry. I have no right to be. Not if I can't even tell you about your parents. I just...didn't want you to feel like I did. Not like this. Not when you have so many other things to worry about. And you're right. You're no more of a kid than I am, but at least you still have an excuse with your age."

He huffed a shallow laugh, half expecting her eyes to open then. They didn't. Lifting his fingers from off her face, he saw that the medi-gel was stable, repositioning his arm to hold her shoulders more firmly. His hands twitched with anxiety, his back tightening every time he thought she had stopped breathing. A few minutes passed before he subconsciously brought her closer, his brow resting against her hair.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, finding himself continuing in as much of a whisper as his subharmonics would allow. "Please wake—"

"_Dum_."

Tertius lifted his head in surprise, gazing down to find that her mouth had parted to take in deeper breaths. Her eyes were slits and in a daze, but she weakly lifted her hand, tapping against his leg with each syllable she made

"_Dum_..._Buh-dum bum_," she mumbled, pressing her ear against his shirt.

"Mary?" he asked gently, trying to set her completely upright.

A groan escaped her throat as she rolled towards him, her arms limp in her lap as she rested her bloodied face against his breastplate. "Home..."

"What?" he questioned in a relieved yet agitated sigh, remembering to ask her later about her lack of water consumption.

She finally grasped onto his sleeve, Tertius placing a hand on her back when he felt her start to tremble. "Your heartbeat reminds me of home."

It was apparent she was in a delirious state, but he let her sit there, listening to the sounds beneath his skin. Perhaps there was more to her statement than he realized, that something so small as a heartbeat really could be comforting. Then again, hearing her breathing normally was just as consoling. Somehow everything else seemed so trivial then. The arguing, the doubt, the anxiousness—he couldn't remember why it mattered anymore. He was just happy to see her alive, that he would at least have another chance to...

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, Mary lifting her head slowly. He took in a choppy breath, brushing back the hair from her face nervously. Nothing was going to stop him from saying his peace, pride be damned. "I'm sorry, Mary."

She just stared at him, Tertius uncertain if she even knew what was going on. Looking off to the side, she reached for his hand, taking it in both of hers and placing it against her forehead. His mandibles flicked curiously, wondering what she was doing when she just sat there, her grip restraining his fingers. From under his arm he could see her lips flatten like before, her eyes closed.

"I'm sorry, too," she wheezed, continuing to hold onto him as she rested her head back onto his chest. "Please don't stay mad at me."

"I'm not mad," he reassured, slipping his hand away and placing it on her shoulder. "I was just...worried."

"So...we're okay?"

"Yeah."

"Can I go to sleep now?"

He thought about it for a moment, pushing her back lightly to sit on her calves. Deep down he was still concerned, genuinely afraid that if she fell asleep she might not wake up again. Leaning over, he grabbed the tipped over glass on the table and held it out to her.

"Promise you'll drink some water and you can sleep all you want."

She gazed at the glass for a time, even staring through it into his eyes. It was as if she knew what he was thinking, realizing what she had done. Hesitantly she nodded, watching him stand and head into the kitchen. Though she wanted to follow him, she found herself stuck to the floor, her legs unnaturally heavy. She refrained from saying anything, however, at least until she had drunk something. After taking the glass and downing what was there, eventually she felt herself become light enough to rise, her legs still wobbly as she stood with the help of the couch. Mary gazed up when Tertius held out his arm, allowing her to grab his elbow for balance before walking to the closet.

He helped her sit down on her bed and place the puffy blanket wrapped around the bottom bedpost over her. Standing straight, he held up a hand with a pause, filing back out into the other room. She continued sitting up until he returned, rubbing her eyes in wonder to focus on the items in his hands. Tertius set the stuffed sheep beside her and handed her the placard of stickers, sitting down on the floor and leaning his back against the bed frame. He noticed that her lip began to spasm as she smiled as best she could, her vision hazing when she took the sheep into her arms, squeezing it tightly.

"You like it, then?" he asked, Mary nodding.

He stretched his legs out, content with her reply. Though he figured he would sit for a time, waiting and making sure she slept soundly, he was surprised when he felt a pair of arms reach over his shoulders and wrap around his collar, the weight of her head pressing against the back of his carapace. He smiled lightly, knowing her gesture to be a human sign of appreciation. _Hugging_, he believed it was called. Placing his left hand on the back of hers, he exhaled in a low, tired hum.

"Try to get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up," he stated, her limbs disappearing from view.

"Really?"

He nodded shortly, hearing her fall back into place on her side. It wasn't long before he began to notice the signature whistle from her nose, glancing over his shoulder to find that she was fast asleep. Even if he could have found the strength to move to his own room, he decided to remain next to her, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side. Slowly, but eventually, sleep came to him as well, allowing him to end the horrible day.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: First of all, I apologize for getting this out so late. I wanted to post it Saturday, but there were quite a few important things that needed attention last week and I couldn't get to finishingediting this chapter, (and I didn't want to post something half done. :( ) Things should be pretty back to normal now, though. Second, if anyone cares to know/wants to hear what I was thinking, Tertius's heartbeat is referenced from 'Dragonheart', (ugh, I'm dating myself there, but if you haven't seen that movie DO IT. It's that awesome). My brother and I were watching it the other day and I thought that, if anything, that's what a turian's heart might sound like, especially since I knew I would be writing something about it later on. Then my brother went 'aww' and laughed that I would even think of such a thing out of the blue. XD;


	15. Bloody Mary

Chapter Fourteen

Bloody [Mary]

She woke up feeling terrible. Her body had stiffened into the position she had fallen asleep in, barely able to sit herself up. Though she couldn't recall much of what had happened, nor gain a sense of time in the darkness, she could still hear the turian officer snoring on the floor next to her. She could feel the wool of the sheep he had gotten for her and the card of stickers that was resting against her leg. She could even still taste the metallic flavor of blood dried on her inside lip.

Picking up the tiny, flat figures of the puffy animal, she turned the board over in her hands, trying to remember why she had received it. She had been watching the vid screen, surfing through channels blindly to offset her frustrated sadness, and then...it was cold. It was dark. She felt like she was being stabbed with a million needles down her arms and legs. Whenever she could manage to think between her sporadic blackouts, she only wondered why her ears seemed so muffled. It sounded like a distant wind, chilling the muscles down her spine and leaving her there alone.

And then she remembered hearing something else. It was faint, but it was calming. It made the needles fall away and warm her face and shoulders. She tried to reach out and determine what it was, but her arms wouldn't move. Her body wouldn't move. Mary would have panicked if the sound hadn't been there, if she didn't start to hear a low, soothing voice rumble next to her ear.

That voice, though she couldn't remember what was said, belonged with certainty to the man sleeping beside her. The way he sat upright with his arms crossed and crooked his head to the side looked terribly uncomfortable. Still, she couldn't help but smile at the fact that he really had stayed. She had expected him to leave when she fell asleep; his own bed would have been a lot more comfy than thinly carpeted metal. For a time she just stared, listening to the undertones that vibrated in his throat every time he exhaled. His orange facial markings almost glistened off his skin with the dim light from the other room, raised almost like scars. She wondered for a moment if the spikes coming off his head were actually sharp, her eyes wandering down the oddities along his neck before falling upon the round, shell-like object attached to his back.

Her gaze narrowed in wonder, sitting up on her knees and carefully leaning her head near his. She held her breath, finally examining the space between the back of his skull and his carapace that rested just outside the collar of his shirt. It was strange to find how normal it seemed, at least from a human standpoint; there weren't rigid plates like the rest of his body, but more pliable, softer coverings. She suspected that's why he even had a carapace; it was probably to protect one of his very few weaknesses against an attack from behind. Mary blinked in wonder at the anatomical shield itself, noticing how much it resembled a bowl. There was almost a twinkle in her eyes as she pressed her lips together to contain a giggle, sitting back and looking over her stickers once more. She began peeling off one that seemed almost too appropriate for what she planned to do—a black sheep with a v-shaped frown, a disgruntled brow, and beady little eyes. With a steady hand she reached back and gently stuck it to the curved lip of the shell, knowing that, unless he turned his head just so in a mirror, he'd never be able to see it.

She breathed a small gasp as he stirred, shifting his shoulders slightly before growing still. It was even harder to stifle her laugh after that, deciding it would be better if she got up. Sliding to the bottom of the bed, she paused briefly after noticing her blue dress wrapped around the bedpost, picking it up and carrying out with her. If anything, she knew she needed a shower and a change of clothes, especially since the shirt she wore was starting to reek.

Mary made sure the closet and bathroom doors were shut as quietly as possible, dampening whatever noise the shower pipes might have made. It took a few minutes for the water to warm up, but once it had she finally turned to face the bathroom mirror, attempting to put her hair up higher with the stretched-out band that somehow still managed to work. She stopped herself when she first noticed the splatter of blood on her shoulder, trailing up her neck to the black and blue cut on her forehead. The sight made her reach up and poke at it lightly, squinting when it stung. Her eyes twitched with a flood of emotions, taking in a heavy breath when she quickly turned away and tried to put the image to the back of her mind. It was an impossible feat, however, when she had to pick away the red crust that stuck to her cheek.

It took her a moment for her consciousness to catch up to her feelings, beginning to taste the saltiness of tears hit the sides of her mouth. It didn't matter how many times she remembered him saying he was sorry. Deep inside she knew the truth. He had every right to be angry with her, and, if anything, he had every right to stay angry at her. She had denied him the one comfort he had left in the war, to know that his brother was still alive and that he could still talk to him. If anyone had kept that information away from her about her sister, she would have been more than just mad. In fact, she _still_ hated the people who kept her death a secret. It made her heart start to hurt when she questioned whether he thought of her the same way she thought of the Alliance. She found comfort in the fact that he apologized, however, even if it was only his job to do so. He had still tried to make things better after she had been such a stupid kid.

But that's all she was. Just some stupid kid.

The longer she remained there, the more it seemed like she made things worse. Every time he tried to do his job, she managed to make it difficult somehow. She had been so consumed by thinking about her parents that she had even neglected her health, forgetting to drink her water or eat when he didn't put the plate in front of her. The difficult thing was that she knew it would only continue, no matter how hard she tried to be stronger and keep herself composed.

She needed to go home. The only way she knew how to do that, or at least start on the road of returning to normal, was by finding out where her parents were.

Even when she dried off and got dressed again, she couldn't stop wondering how odd it was. After all that time, it was strange that they hadn't heard anything. Perhaps C-Sec was just too busy to bother informing Tertius. Maybe they had already arrived and were just waiting for the investigation to come to an end. At least that's what she wanted to believe.

Stepping out into the hall, she released a small sigh, beginning to wring her hands. She looked about the floor and then to the rest of the apartment, feeling like the walls were growing smaller. Her insides were conflicted on what she should do, contemplating if she should wake the man in the next room. He could help her bother the information center about their whereabouts; then again, he had probably already done that over the course of her time there. She wasn't suppose to leave the apartment, but what else could she do? If he couldn't get answers from C-Sec, then the only other option was to go back to the refugee processing center. He had already done enough running around for her, though, and she knew that, if he woke up, he would never let her go. It was his job to make sure she stayed out of sight, after all.

She would just have to be quick and stay as low-key as possible.

With a hefty nod to convince herself, she turned on her toes, finding her shoes at the entrance and quietly making her way out.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So, about them cliffhangers...lol. Much shorter chapter, I know, but there are quite a few lines with multiple meanings that will become important in future chapters and things will certainly start to pick up speed from here. I'll have a nice, longer update for you all next week. Until then... :D<p> 


	16. How It Went

Chapter Fifteen

How It [Went]

There was definitely something else going on, and it frustrated her to no end not knowing what it was. Lieutenant Lalita spent her time, both on and off duty, going over recorders, audio files, and any other information she could get her hands on about the batarian in their custody. Despite his past transgressions in the Terminus systems, she couldn't find a connection between him and whatever might be occurring on the Citadel. Something _was_ happening, she knew, but she just didn't have any evidence or clues to support what that was.

She sat in the small monitoring room alone, leaning her chin against her clasped fingers. The way he continued to shift around, growing agitated with every waking moment he spent in that cell, the more she wondered _why_. Every chance he had he would ask to be transferred to the Presidium, making up excuses about how he felt claustrophobic and how he wanted to finally contact his fleet. It didn't matter how many times they told him that the layout was exactly the same for each C-Sec office. Her gaze narrowed looking at the vid screen, beginning to grind her teeth. Why did he want to vacate the Lower Wards so much? What was it he knew that he wasn't saying?

The fact was, there wasn't anything in the Lower Wards that seemed out of the ordinary. Commander Marinus had sent teams to investigate every nook, every cranny, every part of the seedy underbelly, but they had yet to find anything even remotely related to terrorist activity. There hadn't even been very many smuggling rings to speak of. Everything had just gone quiet.

As cliche as she knew it sounded, perhaps it was too quiet.

She breathed in slowly as she stood, stretching up to relieve the pain in her back. Five hours had been long enough, she thought, and she could use some lunch. Besides, she needed to check on her fellow officers in the lounge. They had returned to work the following morning, but their hearts and minds just didn't seem to be in it. That was especially true for Asira who, although she tried her best to keep a level head, always looked like she was about to cry, and excused herself periodically to probably do so. Though it had been planned for them to interrogate the suspect further, she refrained from assigning them the task, knowing that the recent news of the war would dampen their capabilities to preform well. She instead had them comb through paperwork she already sorted through several times, if only to make it seem like they were doing work.

As she began to hear shouting, however, she realized that not everyone must have felt it was enough.

"What are you people doing?"

She quickened her pace until she reached the end of the hall, watching as Commander Marinus stood almost dumbfounded before slamming the office door behind him. He seemed to have a way of sucking the air right out of the room no matter where he went, but even then she could feel it being replaced by his anger. Dairu had his vision planted to the paperwork in his hands, though it was quite apparent that he wasn't reading. Asira gazed wide-eyed at the older turian, pulling at her fingers with nervousness. Mayfield was the only one who didn't appear remotely surprised, Lalita letting him speak for them regarding the situation.

"Lalita assigned us to—" he began, leaning against his elbows before he was interrupted.

"_Lieutenant_ Lalita," he spat, his voice rising. "Regardless of your extra assignments, your team was suppose to interrogate the suspect this afternoon."

"Yeah, well, she changed it," Mayfield stated, his voice low and rough.

Lalita tilted her head, surprised by his outburst. His usual cheery demeanor was gone and replaced with something serious, his rebuttal carrying a hint of bitterness. She was almost amused by it, seeing how composed he could be when he wanted to. Marinus, however, was anything but entertained.

"And I'm changing it _back_," he proclaimed, grabbing the man's shoulder forcefully. The other officer's at the table jumped when Mayfield was hoisted to his feet, seeing the expression of pain as the commander dug his talons into his shirt. "You're not getting paid to sit around on your asses and sort through paperwork! You all are not students anymore and I will be _damned_ before I let any of you start thinking such!"

"Commander—" Lalita tried to explain, stepping forward slightly before he waved a dismissive hand.

"Lieutenant, I don't want to hear it!" he shouted. "I didn't pass this assignment to Commander Bailey just so you could squander it!"

"Don't yell at her!" Asira suddenly pleaded, her voice cracking. The room suddenly grew silent once more, even Marinus stunned by her words. "She was just trying to help!"

"Help? _Help_?" he started again, shoving Mayfield to the side and focusing his attention on the asari. "The only thing that needs help is this investigation! You can't even do your damn jobs without me coming in here and seeing the slack that needs to be picked up!"

"Sir, I believe what Officer Asira is trying to say is—" Dairu tried to say softly before Mayfield spoke over him much more assertively.

"Thessia was destroyed yesterday," the human man said in an oddly gentle manner, his hands balling into fists.

"And?"

Again, it seemed that not a breath was inhaled. After a moment, Asira couldn't contain her sadness any longer, heaving a sob as she covered her mouth. Dairu could see the rage building in Mayfield, but strangely that same look was beginning to spread in the face of the Lieutenant, watching her stand taller.

"Commander," she said, the three other officers under her authority noticing that she was noticeably stern.

"'_And'_? What the hell is your problem?" Mayfield practically roared, getting up close to Marinus's face. The commander didn't even flinch at the younger man's actions. "Her family was on that planet!"

"A lot of people have died in this war, and a lot more still will," he hissed, his mandibles clacking against his face.

"Commander Marinus," Lalita tried to get his attention again, but her words were still too hushed to be heard.

"I knew you were a hard ass, but I never expected you to be this much of a heartless bastard," Mayfield seethed, Marinus finally turning to face him completely.

"And what would you know of war? Of death?" he questioned, stabbing his talon upon Mayfield's sternum. "You weren't even born when I was on the fields of Shanxi, and I can guarantee that you've never felt such loss."

"Why, because my people kicked your ass?" he scoffed.

Marinus growled as he lashed out, grabbing Mayfield by the throat. "Say that again, human!"

"Lucaren!"

Every eye that had been viewing the situation unfolding abruptly moved to gaze at the lieutenant. There was an appearance of worry riddled across her face, something that was awkward for all of the them to behold. Asira had stopped crying just as much as Mayfield calmed, wondering about the significance of the word their commanding officer had used. Marinus released his grip and turned slowly, cracking his neck as he spoke.

"Lieutenant, may I speak to you outside?" he muttered between his teeth, Lalita following him out into the hall.

The younger officers waited until the door was closed again before looking at each other, Asira swallowing her tears to speak the question rolling through her mind.

"Did...Did she just call him by his first name?"

Lalita leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, her lip tilted to the side. She knew where the conversation was heading, considering she had heard it all before. He would be angry for a time, but even he knew she had stopped him for a reason. That didn't mean he had to like it.

"They're not children," he stated, pacing about the floor.

"I know," she replied shortly, staring off blankly down the hall.

"They're also no longer students."

"I know."

He finally stopped, stepping up to her. "Then why are you treating them as such?"

"I'm not," she looked back at him, dropping her arms to her sides. "They're a team. When an individual suffers, so does the group."

"There's a difference between faction dynamics and neglecting duty!" he exclaimed. "Giving them paperwork? You should have just sent them home to their mothers!"

"It was better than nothing," she answered, her voice growing harsh. "It's not like the batarian is going anywhere anyway."

"Just because we're in a war doesn't mean they can just stop doing their job every time something goes wrong!"

"It wasn't just_ something_. Asira hasn't heard from her family in days. They're likely gone," she protested. "Not everyone grieves by keeping their mind on work."

Marinus paused, drawing his gaze away as he stood back. "A lot of people have lost someone. That doesn't mean we should disregard what needs to be done."

"So," Lalita breathed, her eyes becoming dark, "the Hierarchy didn't give you time to mourn?"

His eyes met hers in a glare. If she had spoken to anyone else that way, she could have kissed her job goodbye. Then again, if it had been anyone else, she probably wouldn't have been standing there putting up with the tight regulations Citadel Security was so proud of. He knew just as much about her as she knew about him, and from it there was an equal amount of respect that no other officer would ever receive from either of them.

"Fire them then," she continued. "Fire them for their insubordination. And while you're at it, fire me, since I'm the one who gave the order. We've had this conversation before, and I'm tired of hearing it."

He shifted the bulk of his weight to his other foot, clacking his teeth together. With an angry huff he threw the entrance door wide open again, stepping in and hesitating. Lalita could hear him grumble his new orders, telling them to take the day off and to make sure to spend it building their group morale. In a more forceful tone, he stated that he expected them to be composed and fully active the next day. The three other officers paused, confused and unsure what to do for a time, until he shouted for them to get out.

The lieutenant watched them exit quickly, viewing the different expressions on each of their faces. Asira appeared to be fighting back her tears still, but was mumbling in confusion about what had just happened. Dairu looked just as flabbergasted following her, saluting Lalita as he went. Mayfield was the only to stutter his steps, eying her curiously. There was a moment where unspoken words were exchanged, the lieutenant pointing two fingers at her eyes and back at him. Mayfield smiled with a sense of gratitude, waving a hand as he caught up with his fellow officers.

"If I remember correctly you were on the other side of that conversation," Marinus spoke up as he appeared in the doorway, leaning his wrist against its frame. "Of course, there wasn't a lieutenant there to stop me from dislocating your jaw."

"Yeah," she scratched the side of her face with her thumb thoughtfully, grinning when she looked back at him. "How's that missing tooth?"

"Still empty enough to shove in a bottle of...what was it? Jack?"

She titled her head in wonder. "Aren't you still on duty?"

"I've been on duty for seventy-two hours without a single lead from any of the teams I sent out," he exhaled a heavy sigh, rubbing his forehead. A moment of silence passed before he shook his head, filing back into the room. "The whole galaxy has gone to shit. What's one drink going to hurt?"

—

It was cold on the floor when he woke up, lifting his head slowly to find his neck painfully stiff. His hips and legs were numb, his shoulders needing to be rolled before he could shift into more comfortable position. Eventually his amber eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in a slow breath when he noticed the closet door was closed. Had he closed it before going to sleep? He couldn't quite recall.

What he noticed, however, was that the whistling he remembered was no longer there. Her bedding was disheveled, Tertius noticing that her dress along the bottom bedpost was missing. As he placed a hand on the mattress to help himself up, he noticed that the sheets were cold, wondering how long she had been up. With a yawn he turned and exited into the hall, pausing briefly when he noticed the bathroom door was shut. Though he couldn't hear water running, he flicked his right mandible to the side, reassuring himself that she was in there before heading to the couch.

He sat back down with a tired groan, knowing that he would never mock the comfort of the sofa ever again. It took him a minute to even realize he was sitting on something, reaching under his leg to find the datapad he had tossed there the other day. Tertius stared at it blankly, unsure what to make of it. After checking and determining there weren't any new messages still, he tapped his forehead in thought. Without word from the Hierarchy and knowing about the transmission his brother had sent, a wave of relief finally hit him, hesitating only to think of what he should say. Should he tell his brother what had happened? No, it wasn't a secure channel out of the Citadel. He couldn't just lie to him, though. And what about Mary? What if she came out of the bathroom in the middle of the message?

Realizing what had to be done, he rolled his eyes, standing on achy legs again and pacing to his bedroom. He activated the omni-tool on his wrist after closing the door, deciding to stand as he spoke.

"Caien, sorry I didn't get back to you as soon as I should have. There was...a major assignment that needed attending to." He stared off for a moment, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't just an assignment. Some...one kept me from viewing your message. It was an accident, of course, but she neglected to tell me until recently. But it was good to hear from you. It's...still good to hear from you."

His brow twitched, mandibles held firmly to the side of his face when he realized he had accidentally used a specific pronoun. Tertius was just thankful for the cover Dee Dee had provided him; if anyone was smart enough to hack his messages, they wouldn't think twice of who he was referring to. "And no, it's not what you think. You're the only one in an inter-species romance and that's the way it's going to stay. She's, uh...She's a friend."

Tertius exhaled roughly, finally sitting on the end of his bed. He knew subconsciously that he should have just kept his mouth shut, thinking of how his brother would snidely reply, but he wanted to catch up on the many days he had missed speaking with him. It was sort of his way of apologizing for his own absentmindedness.

"She's a good friend. She's nice...For a human, anyway," he laughed loosely. "She even cooked breakfast once. Wasn't half bad. We've been watching movies to pass the time, just so we don't have to listen to those over-dramatic news reports. You know the ones."

He paused again, scratching the markings on the side of his face. "We, uh...also have a wager going on. She hummed this song once. Said it was a human lullaby. I'm still having trouble figuring out what it was, but...Hm..." Tertius's face plates twitched in embarrassment. "Maybe you know what it is, considering how often you've probably been hanging out with human units lately. Keeda might even know with her travels. It goes..."

Tertius looked to the door, almost as if he suspected her to be standing outside eavesdropping on his conversation. There wasn't much he could do about it, however, and he went ahead anyway. He mumbled the first few words he could remember before carrying the tune, his harmonics splitting the tone into a strange chorus. It was good enough, at least as far as he was concerned, chuckling when he reached the last note.

"Yeah, well, I think that's enough to make fun of me for one lifetime," he said, nodding his head to the side. "If you can think of anything, let me know. Thanks again for sending me that transmission. Message back when you can."

With that, he ended the communication signal, rolling his neck as he stood. His muscles were beginning to unwind from the knots they had been tangled into, standing with relative ease and walking across the room. There was a small smile on his face when he opened the door again, but it flickered away seeing the hallway empty. Noticing that the bathroom was still shut, his brow lowered in thought, stepping out into the living room to find everything was the way he left it. He sighed lowly after observing the blood still spread across the carpet, half turning back with concern. Perhaps she was just assessing the damage on her forehead, or even mending the wound more efficiently with the emergency kit in one of the drawers. Whatever the case might have been, he went to the bathroom and knocked lightly, not wanting to startle her in case she hadn't heard him walking about.

"Hey, everything alright in there?" he asked, gazing at his feet.

Tertius squinted when he viewed the gap between the floor and the door, seeing that the usual light reflection on the outcropping tile wasn't there. The continued silence made him even more suspicious. He waited only a few more seconds before pushing the door open, finding it unlocked and the space beyond dark. Though he still checked the room for any signs of her, he had an increasingly sinking feeling of what was going on. He inspected the closet again without any results, striding quickly to the kitchen to find she wasn't rummaging through the cupboards like before. Lastly, he looked towards the entrance.

Her shoes were missing. Tertius took in a slow, deliberate breath, trying to grasp the situation that was unfolding every time he turned his head. Inside he felt like he could shout the loudest profanity the Citadel had ever heard, but it never escaped his chest. Instead he stormed back into his room to put on his armor and uniform, gathered his sidearm from the dresser beside his bed, and hastily went to track down the girl he was suppose to be watching. He could only hope he found her first.

—

He would not be the first to notice her, however. Instead, a pair of dark eyes watched her from across a store, staring intently as the short blond perused through the snack isle. Even Mary could feel the gaze on the back of her head, timidly glancing over her shoulder in anticipation that it would stop. She was surprised when it didn't, blinking nervously at the merchant who rose an eyebrow at her.

"Your shoes," the woman suddenly spoke, Mary jumping at the sound.

"Huh?" she responded, snatching a small bag of chips from off a shelf as an awkward reflex.

Mary had felt her stomach pained with hunger when she reached the entrance corridor of the Ward, deciding she should grab something quick. She would have been in and out before anyone knew she was there, especially since she had a few credits leftover stuffed in her footwear. At least she would have been unnoticed if it hadn't been for the leery, black haired woman behind the counter.

The shopkeeper smiled at her uneasiness, leaning into her hand. "Your shoes don't match your dress, love."

Mary paused, looking down after a moment and laughing timidly. "Oh! Yeah. Uh...My friend bought me this dress and these were the only shoes I had."

"I see," the woman grinned strangely, something hidden behind it. "Let me guess. This was a guy friend and didn't think about the whole ensemble?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her worry starting to wear away. The woman didn't seem all that threatening to her; if anything, she was just a friendly human merchant who apparently knew what she was talking about when it came to fashion.

"I might have something more fitting for you if you want to try on something else," she stated, pursing her lips curiously when the girl placed the bag next to the flat-screened register.

"Oh, no. This is fine," she replied, doling out the individual credits. She frowned when the woman stared blankly at them, her mouth gaping slightly. "These are still good here, right?"

"Yeah..." she said slowly. "Not from around here, are you?"

"Um..." Mary mumbled, her eyes darting to the side.

"I only ask because we don't get many people using single credits," the woman chuckled, continuing in a lower tone. "Decided to ditch who you were with, maybe? Go out and have some fun yourself? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Oh, no, it's not like that," she said worriedly, as if she had to defend her actions to a complete stranger. "I just...My friend's done so much for me already, but I need to go find some people."

"Some people?" she inquired, her voice skeptical.

She nodded. "There's a list over at the docks. I need to go ask someone about it. That's all."

Mary watched as the woman's face became visibly pale, her smug grin falling into a wide-eyed expression of concern.

"The...the docks?" she stammered, eventually shaking her head and speaking in a more composed voice. "Oh, no. No, no, no, you can't go there."

"Huh?" Mary's face scrunched up. "What do you mean?"

"Well," the woman inhaled, gazing up at the ceiling as her hands spread across the counter. "Haven't you heard the reports?"

"What reports?"

"Heavens!" the woman gasped, holding her hand against her chest. "You really haven't heard! There's been an outbreak of a virus."

"A virus?" she repeated.

"Oh, yeah. A big one. They contained it quite quickly, but they said the docks will be closed for another few hours."

"I see..." she drifted.

That certainly put a damper on her plans. She wanted to be back before Tertius got up, but if the docks were closed then that wasn't likely to happen. Mary knew that she should probably just go back to the apartment, if only to keep him from finding out she had left. Then again, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered why that would matter. He'd probably find out anyway, what with C-Sec having eyes and ears in every corner of the Citadel. She bit her lip as she stood there, knowing that she couldn't go back. Not without finding out what happened to her parents. It was likely Tertius would come to find her, though, and if that happened before she managed to get to E24...

"Why don't you take in the day to see the sights?" the woman asked, startling Mary out of her thoughts.

"Huh?" she sounded again, coughing when she realized how many times she had said it.

The woman grinned again. It almost made Mary nervous how she somehow knew what she had been thinking. "Go have a little fun while you can. See the Presidium, go watch some Elcor theater—"

"Oh, I-I shouldn't," she interrupted quietly, waving her hands in front of her to protest. "I...I really shouldn't be out right now."

"_Oh_, so you _are_ hiding, hm?" she sneered, rolling her wrist. "How about somewhere more concealed then? Purgatory, perhaps?"

"What's that?" she asked. If it was somewhere to wait for the docks to open again, then she would be glad to take the opportunity.

"It's a nightclub. Quite nicer than that awful one they had a while back. Pretty clean and has some nice music. Oh, and dancing!"

Mary's eye lit up. "Dancing? What kind?"

The woman paused, laughing softly. "You've never seen a nightclub, have you? Well, there's nothing of the professional sort, I can tell you, but that shouldn't discourage you from seeing it at least from the sidelines. Live a little, hm?"

"I don't know," she answered, disappointment filling her words. "Nightclubs are only for people over a certain age, right? Ter...My friend had a point when he said I was short."

"_Please_," the woman huffed, wobbling side to side briefly before her height abruptly dropped five inches, falling just below Mary's own stature. "As long as you stand next to a volus, you'll look like a giant. I haven't been stopped once. Besides, the watchdogs barely glance at you at the entrance as long as you don't look like you'll start something. They have more pressing issues on their minds. In fact, what size shoe are you?"

"Uh...Six? It think that's thirty-six in—"

"Perfect!" she proclaimed, leaning down and reemerging to place a pair of black and red heels on the tabletop. "You'll have no trouble getting in with these on, I can assure you."

Mary reached out slowly, unsure what to do. They looked like they were right out of a magazine, shiny and elegant in their design. There was a part of her that wanted to pick them up and examine them further, but a larger portion of her sensibility made her hesitate, putting her arm back to her side.

"No, that's okay. I don't have any more money to pay for them anyway."

"Consider it a gift," she smirked, pushing the shoes lightly towards her.

"For what?"

The woman pressed her lips together again, containing a chuckle that would blurt out what she was hiding. "For taking care of this friend of yours. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you wearing those to compliment that dress."

Squinting in confusion, Mary took hold the footwear quickly, getting the idea that the woman wouldn't stop until she put them on. While she could have just taken her chips and ran, that might have drawn more attention than was necessary. It didn't help that her head was in a fog; any concern she held just didn't seem to register past a quiet thought. She slipped out of her old, brown pair and placed the heels on the floor, feeling her ankles pop slightly when she adjusted her feet to fit. They were snug but not uncomfortable, almost feeling like an extension of her legs as she step back and forth. A warm smile spread across her mouth when she gazed back at the merchant.

"Aw, how adorable are you!" the woman beamed, resting her chin in her hands. "You just be sure to take care of each other now!"

There was an undertone in her voice that Mary couldn't quite place, but nodded respectfully regardless. She took the bag of chips with a soft thank you, waving goodbye as she quickly made her way back out into the entrance hall. The shopkeeper's eye twitched watching the girl stumble and scuff her feet until she got use to the feeling of being so tall, her amused smile dulling. Staring out the window to make sure no one was looking, she reached under the counter, taking out a hand-held device. She pressed a red button along the side and the instrument lit up with a dark grid, a small, green dot appearing and fading every few seconds.

The merchant Tertius called Dee Dee knew exactly who the girl had been. She was just shocked to see her standing in her own store, especially without the aid of the turian officer. Her eyes narrowed, annoyed at the thought. He was _suppose_ to be watching her. After all she had helped him out with, seeing the girl wandering around alone was almost like a slap in the face. Though she wanted her to march back the way she came, that it would be safer and keep concealed eyes from finding her, she knew she wouldn't be able to convince her to go back. Dee Dee knew how stubborn human girls could be. He would just have to deal with where she sent her. It was practically the safest place on the Citadel, what with C-Sec posting more and more officials to keep fights from breaking out. Not that they would cause trouble; people were too consumed with their worries to think about starting something.

Dee Dee frowned, tapping her red lips with her index finger as she watched the green dot slowly move across the screen. Sauntering around the table, she pushed open the glass door and sighed, sitting herself onto the short step in front. He'd have to realize she was gone, or care that she was, eventually, and she would be waiting to properly scold him.

It took Mary almost an hour to finally figure out which way she was going, wandering aimlessly to find a map of some kind. She felt a little silly when, after entering an elevator, there was a map provided by the Citadel VI system. While the nightclub named Purgatory was designated to be on the fourth floor, for some reason the computer system didn't have any more information on it. Instead, it just kept listing off how 'Purgatory' was famous in many articles by different species, mainly as a place of waiting between significant places or events. Mary couldn't help but hold her arms when that was mentioned, a chill tingling down her spine.

Her nerves didn't settle when she exited onto the selected floor, beginning to wring her hands while she observed her surroundings. There were quite a few C-Sec officers standing about, as well as a few others who carried on random conversations that Mary was too anxious to eavesdrop on. She found some comfort in the fact that no one even glanced at her as she passed, standing straighter when she entered the shadowed hall that almost seemed to be moving from the vibration in the walls. Passing through one more area that had a few people sitting about and one man unconscious on the floor, she finally stood before the entrance of the nightclub.

After a time, she realized that she was just...standing there. Mary hadn't considered it before then, but she honestly had no idea why she was there. Her voice of reason spoke softly in the back of her mind, trying to understand why she would listen to a complete stranger and stand, by herself, at a place she never dreamed of being. She could have just gone to the outside of the docks and wait for the registry to open up again. She could have even gone to the embassies if she felt that desperate. Something inside her, however, kept what she had been thinking all along deeply buried. She didn't know the absolute truth, and she couldn't bear to come to the worst possible conclusion. Not yet.

Mary glanced up when she noticed one of the guards was eying her questioningly, his gaze following when she waved quickly and headed in. Her steps didn't go very far as she went under the overarching doorway, her eyes lighting up with the sights and sounds that surrounded her. It was dark, but the vibrant colors dancing across the metal floor and walls made it seem like something out of a vid. She even wondered if maybe they filmed one of the Blasto features there.

To her left was a small bar, crowded with people trying to get the attention of a single employee. Some were happy, others were aggravated, but all seemed to have a colorful glass in their hand. Slowly striding farther into the obnoxiously large, open room, she noticed that, up a flight of stairs, there were three other areas. One that was directly in front of her appeared to be the dance floor, only accessible by another staircase. To her left was another bar and a smaller lounge area, as well as another space where people congregated behind a wall she couldn't see past. Glancing to her right, she froze, seeing how empty the last area was. All it contained was a single guard and an asari woman, sitting alone on a large red couch. The woman did not look happy at all being there; in fact, it looked as if she were about to kill something if she had the chance. Mary subconsciously backed away, hoping that the asari hadn't seen her. If she was looking for a target, the last thing Mary wanted was to be in that line of fire. She stumbled on her heels before turning and quickly heading to the left, smoothing out her dress awkwardly to make it seem like she wasn't under any distress.

The bar she approach didn't seem too crowded, many standing off to the side and carrying on in their own way, both in groups and individually. Mary took a seat on a stool and gazed on with a smile at all the colorful bottles behind the counter, rotating around to take in her surroundings. Her eyes went from a burly, tanned man and highly tattooed woman holding a conversation at the end of the bar to a pair sitting off to the distance. Mary's brow lowered when she noticed how different the woman looked sitting at the table, almost...synthetic in appearance. The more she stared, the more mechanical her body seemed, but she was speaking to the man across from her naturally, carrying mannerisms any human would have. All she could think of was how strange the Citadel and all its inhabitants were. Then again, she probably seemed just as strange to them.

"Hey there!"

Mary sat straighter, spinning around to meet the voice that spoke loudly behind her. Her face flushed from color, the back of her hands and wrist tensing in nervousness. It wasn't so much that a man was leaning against the bar and smiling at her pleasantly; it was the fact that he was wearing an Alliance uniform. Glancing over his shoulder, she noticed that a lot of people in that area were wearing Alliance colors. She plastered on a smirk regardless, trying to be polite.

"Who, me?" she chuckled tensely, tapping her fingers on the table.

"Of course. No one else here pretty enough to talk to," he stated, sitting on the stool next to her. "Here for the music or the cocktails?"

"Uh..." She wasn't entirely sure what to say to that, shrugging slowly. "Neither?"

The man blinked, sighing after a moment. "Waiting for someone then? Boyfriend, maybe?"

"Oh, no," she shook her head, tucking her lose hair behind her ear. "I've never been here before."

"Really?" he grinned again. "Can I buy you a drink then?"

Mary tried really hard not to laugh. She hadn't been sure at first, but it was clear that the situation was becoming _painfully_ like a Blasto vid. He was pulling the cheesy 'buy-your-time' ploy that seemed to be in every plot. When the man waved to get the attention of the bartender, however, her joy dissolved. It didn't seem so funny anymore when there wasn't someone there to be amused with.

"So who do I have the honor of addressing?" he mused, taking two frosted bottles from the attendant and sliding one beside her.

"Hm, _honor_," she muttered under her breath, remembering who she was talking to. When he continued to stare, her eyes shifted anxiously, realizing that he actually wanted an answer. She knew she shouldn't say her real name, but coming up with one on the spot was difficult for her to process, even extending the last syllable of whatever she could think of. "My name is, uh...Mar_ty_."

"Marty?"

It sounded worse coming from him. "Yeah. Marty."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "New to the Citadel?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her fingers patting the counter when his grin quirked with intrigue. "Just visiting, though. I'll be leaving soon."

"Not too soon, I hope," he stated. "Maybe I can show you around. I'm on shore leave myself."

"Really?" she inquired, holding a hint of sarcasm that he didn't catch onto.

"Alliance marine, logistics. Been in the thick of it helping with rescue efforts on various worlds."

"M'hm," she mumbled, grabbing the bottle in front of her and taking a swig. The more he talked, the more she wanted to drown out his voice. She didn't want to hear how awesome his job was, or how amazing he considered himself for being apart of the Earth military. Maybe to an unsuspecting bar hopper he would have seemed impressive; her bitterness made her know better.

She wasn't prepared for how the substance in the bottle would taste, though. Her face scrunched up when it hit her throat, all but spitting it back up onto the bottles on the back shelves. Gazing at the label, she realized it wasn't anything human, feeling it sizzle on her tongue. It was even worse than the turian wine.

The man laughed, "Not big on batarian drinks, huh?"

"Batarian?" she rasped, coughing to clear her windpipe. "It's awful!"

"Yeah, well," he chuckled, "it's batarian. Taste doesn't mean anything if it's strong enough."

"That goes for more than just booze," she giggled to herself, recalling the conversation she had with Tertius over his unrequited crush. Somehow it seemed like she was gazing at a human counterpart, a large crest replaced with an ever larger ego.

"Pardon?" he asked, Mary gazing back in surprise. She hadn't figured he could hear her over the bass of the music.

"Oh, uh...Nothing," she smiled hesitantly, setting the bottle back down. "I should...I need to get going."

"What's your rush?" he laughed, taking her hand before she could place it at her side. "You just got here!"

She squirmed at his touch, yanking her arm away when the sweat of his palm perspired on her fingers. "I'm sorry, I have to go see if someone's here."

"I thought you said you weren't waiting for anyone," he frowned.

"Not my boyfriend," she corrected, standing. "I'm waiting for—"

"Aw, come on, live a little!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hand again as he stood as well. She was really starting to hate that phrase. "Just one dance!"

Her back tensed when he put an arm around her waist, gritting her teeth with a gasp. She knew then should have listened to her own concerns after all, trying and failing to shove him away. He laughed almost as if he thought it playful, his air smelling of alcohol when he placed his face near her ear. She could feel her breathing becoming sharp again, trying to tell him to leave her alone but her throat stinging from the drink. Before she could vocalize a scream, nearly reaching her hands up to poke into his eyes, she felt the warmth of his body suddenly leave her side.

"She said no, dipshit!"

She discovered the abrupt voice belonged the woman who had situated herself at the end of the bar. She was covered in more tattoos than Mary had realized, even concealing some under her shaved ponytail. They almost flickered when the woman spoke, shoving the man away from her.

"Back off!" the man protested, holding up his hands defensively. "No one asked you!"

"Didn't have to! I could hear your lame playboy routine from across the room," she stated. "Here I was just trying to enjoy a drink and you had to stroll over to grab a piece of ass. It's a mood killer, to say the least."

"Hey, we're all trying to have a good time here," he sneered, crossing his arms. "Now why don't you go back to your dark little corner and let the good looking people have a chance to party."

"_Please_," she scoffed. "With a face like yours, your mom should have put you back in!"

"Says the woman whose tats are like her chest—flat and ugly."

"What did you say to me, mother f—"

"Hey!" the more muscular man that she had been talking with spoke up, getting between the two parties.

Mary could see the woman's skin start to spark with a bluish light, her back hunched like she would pounce. She had seen that static before in one of her educational vids; the woman had some sort of biotics, and she didn't look like she was shy to use them. They didn't fizzle away when the other man walked up, but she did make room for him to talk with the soldier. Oddly enough, the larger man was wearing Alliance colors as well. Mary noticed that he had a patch under his shirt, like he had been wounded before. It was only when he began to carry on in longer sentences did she realize she had heard his voice before, except he had been speaking in obscenities at the docks.

"Do I know you?" the soldier asked, leaning against the counter again.

"No, and I'm pretty sure I don't know you either," the more built man said. "Your Alliance, right?"

"Yeah," he answered, partially questioning what he was asked.

"Then stop trying to give them a bad name. The lady sad no, alright? Let it go," he replied sternly, pushing a tan finger against the other man's shoulder. His eyes glanced over to her, shaking his head. "Besides, I think she's too young for you anyway, amigo."

"You can say that twice," the woman grumbled, Mary appearing to be the only one who heard her. "Damn perv."

Mary blinked, surprised that the other Alliance man was so quick to defend her. She thought for sure that the two would stick up for each other, at least find some fault with her. Perhaps having the tattooed woman there was a buffer against it. Maybe the stronger man really did see reason past association.

"Fine," he waved them away, returning to his seat with a huff. "Just keep that biotic bitch away from me."

Something inside Mary told her she should move, but she continued to stare in bewilderment. The woman had been half turned by the time her companion spoke, ready to return to her drink. When the other man insulted her one last time, however, the light around her flared up again, Mary watching her take in a slow breath. She looked tired, agitated, and seemed to be trying hard to control her probably volatile temper. What she said after a short pause basically summed up what she thought of her state.

"You know what?" she said, placing a hand on her forehead. "Fuck it."

In that moment the man was lifted in a flash of blue, flying across the room to the small lobby down a flight a steps into a wall. The man sitting nearby shouted in surprise when a body flew across his table, the metallic woman showing her artificiality when she didn't flinch. The other Alliance soldier stared on with his mouth half open, almost as if he would say something before the tattooed woman cheered and threw her arms above her head.

"Two points!" she belted out, laughing triumphantly. "Man, that felt good!"

Before Mary could completely back herself against a wall and out of the line of fire, more Alliance members came from behind the woman, wearing the same uniform as the man that had been thrown. The tanned officer, though she could tell he hesitated, took out one with an extended arm to the throat before he could jump on the tattooed woman, the man landing hard on his back. Mary winced at the sight, dropping behind a table as a full brawl broke out.

She wasn't entirely sure how long it went on for or who was involved, finding that her table became crowded with people standing around to cheer. Mary watched as blue light and glass fluttered through the air with scuffing feet and furniture, the actions almost in time with the beat of the music overhead. Eventually the table she hid under flew away, hitting a man in the face and sending him behind the bar. Mary stood quickly and assessed the situation, noticing that the larger Alliance soldier, as well as the pair sitting at the lower table, had disappeared. It was then she realized that she should probably vanish as well.

As she squeezed her way past the growing crowd, she stumbled down the flight of stairs to the lowest level, only a small distance away from the exit. Her shoe snagged on the foot of one of the onlookers, however, making her spin and meet the gaze of a salarian man. She caught her breath, immediately recognizing the colors of Citadel Security. Before she could think of apologizing, a hand rested on her shoulder from the side, turning her to face another human man with the same uniform.

"Hey," the man wondered aloud, "I know you."

"N-no, I don't think we've met," she stuttered, brushing him away. "You must have me confused with—"

"Mary Bell," the salarian said pointedly, gazing down at her as she met his eyes in horror.

"No! I—" she shouted, shaking her hand as the human grabbed her arm more firmly.

"Damn it, what the hell's going—" the man breathed, hurried looking about the chaos before he stopped himself, his eyes flickering in stunned silence.

Out of the noise that made her head pound, Mary could hear the distinct click of a gun arming behind her by the entrance door. The salarian raised his own sidearm quickly but didn't fire, his human coworker narrowing his vision carefully. Mary held her breath, biting the inside of her lip until she began to taste blood on the tip of her tongue.


	17. Means to The End

Chapter Sixteen

Means to [The] End

"Let her go."

The world waved around her when she opened her eyes again, catching her breath after hearing the voice behind her. Mary jerked away from the man who had her in his grasp, stumbling in her turn towards the exit. The heels on her feet wobbled as she ran, her face ducking first beneath a pair of raised arms and planting against a turian's ribs. Her nose started to throb after a moment, hitting his side with more force than she intended, but she ignored it to stand behind him.

Tertius glanced down briefly to see where she stood, feeling her fingers cling tightly to his uniform. His vision fell back upon the two men standing before him, the human keeping his hands up while the salarian remained with his gun aimed high.

"I take it you know each other then," the man yelled over the sound of the ruckus occurring nearby. "Edward Mayfield, Citadel Security detective branch. The man to my right is Officer Nilan Dairu. The woman _behind_ you is Officer Jaheri Asira."

Mary lifted her gaze around Tertius, seeing that an asari woman had appeared from beyond the shadows of the crowd and was pointing her own sidearm at the back of Tertius's head. She recognized her from before, remembering that she had been in the Presidium security department. As the officer stepped around to see his face, the woman squinted curiously, whatever light that was available in the room glinting off his facial markings. Shaking her head, she lowered her weapon.

"Tertius Aquilin?" she wondered aloud.

"You know him, too?" the man named Edward questioned, almost holding a hint of cynicism. He glanced to the salarian, giving him a look that asked if he knew him as well. The other man just shrugged.

"He works in E24, but Commander Marinus suspended him," Asira commented, moving to stand beside the other two officials. "Unless...You were the one Commander Bailey assigned to protective duty?"

Tertius paused, his eyes darting between the three of them. Inhaling slowly, he holstered his pistol, his arms dropping to his side. Mary narrowed her gaze at the device resting in his hand, noticing a green dot blip silently on its screen.

"Ah. Security measure. The less we knew of her whereabouts, the lesser the risk of anyone else in C-Sec finding out," Dairu nodded, setting his gun to his side as well.

"Right. Security measure," Tertius grumbled sarcastically. Protocol or not, that information would have helped from almost getting his head shot off and vice versa. He turned slightly, placing the device in his other hand before taking Mary by the arm. "We need to leave."

"Agreed," Asira replied, following as he headed for the exit.

Mayfield hesitated, rubbing his forehead in frustration as Dairu stared back to the scene unraveling behind them.

"What should we do about that?" the salarian asked, pointing at a man who flew, comically flailing, across the room.

"Let the bouncers handle it," he answered, beginning to walk away. "We've got more important things to deal with. Man, I couldn't even buy her a drink."

Tertius kept up a hurried pace even when Mary had trouble keeping up. He didn't notice the film crew on the far end of the balcony, recording a lead-in before rushing for the fight inside. Mary glanced their way shortly before her ankle jerked inward, shouting in pain and falling out of his grasp. The asari officer was there to catch her before she fell flat on her face, helping her sit.

"Why would anyone wear these?" Mary shouted to no one in particular, angrily lifting them from off her feet. She stopped before throwing them across the room, her brow lowering quizzically. On the bottom heel of the right shoe, there was a flat, reflective piece of metal that was flashing green. Adjusting her gaze to the device in Tertius's hand, she realized that the two dots were blinking in time. "A tracking device?"

Without a word, Tertius extended his hand to help her up. Her eyes twitched with a subtle glare, accepting his gesture slowly. When she was on her feet again, he lead her, along with the other officers that had caught up, to the elevator. Mary couldn't help but stare angrily at the instrument on his other side, carrying the footwear that belonged to it in her own hands. She was drawn out of her thoughts in a blink, however, when his two fingers flinched in her palm, still holding onto her.

"This is...problematic," Dairu stated after the small, metal room's doors closed.

"_Yeah_," Mayfield breathed, signaling for them to be taken to the Presidium. "Hopefully no one noticed who she was, but we can't take any chances. You okay with the investigation offices until this gets sorted out?"

Tertius lifted his head from staring blankly at the floor, noticing the human man had addressed him. "Yeah. That's fine."

"Wait, investigation offices?" Mary inquired quietly, feeling Tertius tightening his grip on her hand. She shook her head, continuing in a louder voice but unsure who to plead to. "I-it's not his fault! I left on my own when he told me not to! I just wanted to find out about my parents!"

"Your parents?" Asira asked softly, Mary watching as the others turned their attention to the officer standing beside her.

"Yeah...What—"

"It doesn't matter what happened," Tertius spoke up. "You need to get to somewhere safe."

"But," she looked up at him, hearing the elevator doors open again, "I am safe."

"Not with your cover blown," Mayfield scoffed, filing out onto the Presidium floor. "You screwed up royally, kid."

"Don't blame her," Tertius said coolly, letting her hand slip away to stride over and stand in front of him. "I messed up this assignment and put this investigation in jeopardy. My job is on the line and nothing else, got it?"

"Yeah, got it," Mayfield raised an eyebrow, watching as the girl walked behind the turian man and stuttered her steps when he spoke his last few words. "Think you can take her over or do you need our help with that too?"

Tertius glared, a small smirk appearing on the edges of Mayfield's mouth before he returned to his place in the elevator. Dairu pressed the signal for the Lower Wards, Asira flashing an distraught expression at the human man before the doors completely shut.

"What? I was just joking! This whole place needs to lighten—"

A welcoming hush finally filled the air, Tertius rubbing the back of his aching neck. He hesitated to meet the gaze of the girl who had disappeared, unsure what to say to her. When he finally did, however, her eyes were not there to meet his. He glanced around quickly, pulling his mandibles close to the sides of his face as he saw her figure quickly distance itself from him. She had already made it down the steps almost stealthily before he took off after her, realizing that she was trying to get as far away from C-Sec as possible.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to finally reach her; Mary was surprisingly agile on bare feet. She went off the designated walkways a few times and ran alongside the reflecting pool, only seeming to slow when she had to climb back onto metal. Though he called after her, she refused to acknowledge him, her lips pressed together even when he managed to grab her arm.

"Stop!" he shouted, Mary keeping her gaze diverted as she tried pulling away. "I said stop!"

She continued not to listen, jerking her body forward. Her abrupt motion made her toes slipped into a crack between the floor's slabs, Mary falling onto her hip with a loud _thud_. He paused, expecting her to finally stay still, but she gritted her teeth in an attempt to stand. With a disquieted hum he reached down, lightly lifting under her arms to place her back on her feet. Thankfully she decided not to run off again, stepping away at a slower pace while she held her arms. For a time they both remained silent, an odd banging sound striking the air every so often. Tertius figured it might have been some repair work up high, but that was a very fleeting notion.

"Why?" It was all he could think to ask. Of course, it was a loaded question; there were too many things that he wanted answered with the phrase _why_.

"I don't want to go back there," she said, turning to face the water on her right.

Tertius wasn't entirely sure where she was referring to. The obvious answer would have been Citadel Security. The more troublesome answer was the apartment.

"I told you not to run off," he stated, trying to avoid figuring out which place she meant. "If you needed something done you should have—"

"Told you?" she interrupted with a mutter, her eyelashes fluttering. "I think I've already told you enough."

There was a dull anger growing within him hearing her uncaring tone, Tertius walking towards her. "Here we are trying to keep a low profile for weeks and now the whole damn Citadel knows you're here!"

"What does it matter?"

He knew that was a crack at what he said earlier, bitterly taken out of context for a reason he still wasn't aware of. "What does—What does it _matter_? It matters because I didn't know if you were still alive or face down at the bottom of the river!"

"I thought it wasn't a river," she huffed.

"Not the point!" he said sternly.

"Well, maybe I was with my parents. Ever think of that?" she snapped, making him stand back slightly. "No, you didn't, did you? That's because my parents are _dead_. They're...They're dead, aren't they?"

He hesitated, but inevitably offered a short nod in reply. Mary had finally said what she had suspected in the darkest part of her mind. It didn't quite hit her as hard as she thought it would; perhaps she had been subconsciously preparing herself for the confession. Even if she could keep herself composed, that didn't mean her heart wasn't burning with a kindling ire. It wasn't her intention to direct it at him, but she couldn't seem to help it. She gritted her teeth, backing away when he remained silent.

"They've _been_ dead and you knew, didn't you? You _knew_!"

"So did you," he blurted out. Tertius had surmised just as much, but the way she spoke only confirmed how she had acted over those last few days. "That's why you stopped drinking your water, right? And wouldn't eat?"

"And you knew I'd leave!" she ignored him, pointing accusingly at the device in his hand. "That merchant! The lady with the dark hair! You know her, and you had her plant a tracking device on these things!"

Tertius had no idea Dee Dee had such technology in her possession, nor did he realize she would ever use it for such a purpose. He was a little alarmed himself that she had placed a tracking device on her heels, let alone sent Mary to a bar to be watched by other, unknowing members of C-Sec, but he knew he would have to thank her later. If it hadn't been for her accosting him in the hall, even when he tried to walk by, he would probably still be searching. It wasn't like any of those facts matter, however; with the state Mary was in, she wasn't likely to believe anything he told her.

"I can't take this anymore!" she virtually screamed, though her emotion was drowned out by the sound of the skycars flying by above them. Her voice cracked and her back hunched over, almost as if she were in pain. "This place is a tomb! I was sent here just to die alone!"

"Stop," he said firmly but as gently as he could. "That's not—"

"This is your job! You're just suppose to make me feel better!" It sounded like she was trying to convince herself, her words wavering with the quivering of her bottom lip. "That's it! Once this is over you can go back to your desk! Go back to caring about something important!"

His brow lifted, the steely gaze he carried softening. "Mary—"

"I am not a replacement for your family!"

There was an awkward stillness that drifted on the deserted path, Tertius trying to bite his tongue but failing.

"I never thought you were!" He paused for a moment when her eyes grew wide at his sudden response, trying to resist saying the honest words that formed in his head. To stand there like that in the open was not the time to break his professionalism, yet it was so hard not to tell the truth. "But...Damn it..."

They stared at each other for a long while after. Before either of them could say anything more, however, Tertius shouted in both surprise and pain, feeling something land on his head. Pink and clear glass shattered across the Presidium walkway, a large chunk rolling and hitting Mary's foot.

"_I'm Garrus Vakarian, and this is now my favorite spot on the Citadel!_"

The shoes fell from out of her hands as she reached out, watching as Tertius writhed in pain. His eyes were shut, pressing his talons against his face while blue blood trickled between them. Placing one foot forward, Mary winced, her sudden worry falling back into rage after viewing the glittering shards dig minimally into her skin. She leaned down, gripping the remaining half a bottle and feeling it crack. Her anger finally had something to focus on, and it had a name.

Tertius could sense the glass in his vision, blinking quickly until the sharp cutting became a weakened sting. He squinted and stared up with his remaining good eye, not sure where that bottle would have come from. And...Garrus Vakarian? He remembered a C-Sec officer by that name, but he hadn't worked on the Citadel for years. Why would he be back, or, if anything, why would anyone be up there shouting like that?

Those questions weren't important. What did matter was seeing if any of the glass had hit Mary. He continued to hold his head as he turned to where she was, once again finding that the gaze that was suppose to meet his was no longer there. Even when he pried open both eyes to try and find her, she was gone. The pain on his face was dull compared to the frustration making his back tense, walking over slowly to grab the heels she had left behind.

Mary traveled with a single goal in mind, her lose ponytail bobbing from side to side while her feet pattered loudly on the metal floor. There was an air about her that would even make some stare as she passed. Her hair was in tangles, her bare feet darkened from the neglected ground. She wasn't entirely sure where to go, but she had a hunch—He would be around the entry docks somewhere, whether in the refugee area or in the military port. Someone who actually lived on the Citadel wouldn't have been so bold to break what she assumed were some serious regulations against throwing things off Presidium balconies. At least she thought no one would.

It wasn't long before Mary reached a line of unfamiliar elevators, standing off to the side to figure out where she should go. Pillars separated her from the small, mostly empty lobby, save for a few people sitting at tables. She leaned against one tiredly, holding the bottle tighter in her hand before the ding of a delivered elevator rang out. As she moved to step towards it, she found her pace accelerating. A few asari women passed her and Mary's eyes fell upon a turian in blue armor, raising his hand to the side of his head like he was receiving an incoming transmission. He spoke clear enough that she recognized his voice, not even glancing up when she spoke.

"Hey!" she shouted, her strides becoming longer. "Hey, _Garrus Vakarian_!"

The man responded to the sound of his name, his upper body leaning abruptly to dodge the glass being thrown at his head, shattering along the wall. He reached behind his shoulder, almost as if he were to grab the gun on his back before he finally got a good look at the girl approaching him. Pausing, he shifted his stance, tilting his head curiously as she ran at him. She leaned her arm back as if to strike his middle only to have her head snap back on her neck, his extended hand pressing against her face and stopping her pursuit. She flailed about for a time before pushing him away, stumbling backwards. It wasn't until her hip landed against a solid surface did she notice the elevator's closed doors, feeling the pain of the bruise starting to develop. Ignoring it, she yelled and tried to hit him again, stumbling as he stepped aside and watched her knock her nose against the wall.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here or are we going to keep doing this dance until the elevator stops?" he asked, his tone slightly acrimonious.

She remained standing with her face to the wall, her fingers pressing hard into the reflective surface. A flanged sigh filled the small room, Mary looking on as he turned with his back to her, signaling for the elevator to ascend to another floor. A glint lit up her eyes, observing the weaponry on his lower belt.

Her feet were finally pierced when she pivoted on her heels, swiveling around the man as she took a pistol off him. He rotated in time, only realizing she had taken something when she aimed it at his face. Though he flinched, presumably to retrieve his rifle, she knew, (from a Blasto vid, of all things), the close proximity would allow her enough time to do what she wanted.

That is, if she knew what she wanted.

"You don't want to do this, kid," he stated, rotating with her as she stepped to the center of the floor.

"Don't _call_ me that!" she yelled, as if a reflex to the term.

"Then what do I call you?" he inquired slowly.

Her unrelenting gaze frittered, the weapon in her hand shaking lightly. While it was probably because he had a red dot floating around him, trying not to make any sudden movements, she was still surprised he seemed so...complacent. He had most likely stared down the barrel of a gun before, especially considering his appearance. Mary immediately took in his features when she had a moment, noticing the different, blue marking under his eyes and the deep scar on the right side of his face.

She firmed her stance, holding the pistol still. "Mary."

"Well, Mary," he began, "whatever you're...feeling isn't worth—"

"Don't _tell_ me how I feel!" she yelled, her patience finally breaking. "My sister is dead! My parents are dead! I...I just abandoned the one friend I have, so don't _tell_ me like you know how this is!"

His shoulders appeared to relax, as if he could see that she had no intention of shooting him. "Then tell me why you're here."

The sides of Mary's mouth twitched, trying to suppress a frown when her eyes glazed over. She took in a choppy breath, her arm shaking uncontrollably. Her fingers became numb from the instrument's weight, inevitably dropping it. What neither of them expected, however, and what made them both jump was a shot ringing out, lighting up the control panel beside the older turian.

He kept his gaze on her, observing what she would do. She trembled in the aftermath of the explosive situation, falling to her knees and finally feeling the pain of glass jabbing into them. Guilt flooded her system, trying to figure out why she gone so far in the first place. As she reached for the gun, if only to pick it up and dust it off, she heard another weapon arm above her.

"_Don't_," he growled, Mary glancing up to find him finally aiming his other gun, looking to be an automatic of some kind, at her forehead.

She drew her hand away, holding it close to her chest. It seemed like a good idea to give him space, sliding to the opposite corner. He stood straight again when she became still, placing both guns back on his armor and turning to the sparking panel on the wall. The control system was shot, unresponsive to every button he pushed. She could tell he was growing more frustrated the more he tried to fix the problem, realizing that the elevator had come to a halt. When nothing seemed to work, he grumbled to himself something she couldn't quite make out, lifting his hand to the ceiling. Though he tried pushing on it, nothing happened, making him even more aggravated.

"Damn! They must have sealed the hatches after that last Cerberus attack," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Well, this is certainly a damper on a pretty good day."

"Why don't you just shoot it open?" she wondered, pushing the hair out of her face.

"I don't know about you, but I don't feel like blindly hitting something and plummeting to my death today," he replied sarcastically, planting himself on the floor in the other corner.

"So...we're stuck in here?"

"Pretty much," he confirmed. "It'll only take the Keepers a few minutes to realize it's malfunctioned, but we'll be here until it's fixed."

Her eyes followed the trail of blood around the room, glancing down at her feet to pick out the shards that had embedded in them. "I'm sorry."

"Not like anything can be done about it now," he mumbled, rubbing the lines running horizontally from his nose.

Silence gracelessly settled in, Mary curling her legs up under her chin. She wasn't sure if she should say anything, particularly with the way he was dishearteningly trying to bring up something on his omni-tool. He was probably attempting to get in contact with the people he was speaking with previously, wanting to keep his conversation private. She held her breath, waiting for him to tap the last few keys in before knocking her forehead lightly against the wall.

"Your bottle hit my friend," she proclaimed, watching in the reflection as he lifted his head.

"_Oh_," he drew out his words. "I thought for sure that part of the Presidium was roped off from the public."

"It usually is. Well, probably," she replied. "I wouldn't know. Maybe that's why my friend tried to keep me from going there."

His mandibles flicked out subtly. "You're a refugee."

She looked over, leaning her cheek against her knees. "Isn't everyone? Since there's no where to actually go in your own galaxy."

"Good point."

It seemed like he quietly followed the pattern of blood as well, shifting uncomfortably. He patted his uniform after a time, reaching to his side a pulling out a small container. She jumped when he tossed it loosely at her, sputtering on the floor before sliding against her foot.

"You know how to use that, right?" he asked, Mary nodding and picking up the red box of medi-gel. "Good. I'm not sure Shepard would forgive me if I let some kid bleed to death, regardless of whether you pointed a gun at my head."

"Shepard?" she repeated, ignoring the fact that he had used her least favorite word again. "You mean like Commander Shepard?"

"One and the same," he answered.

Her head tilted in wonder. "Is the commander like the vids say? Really...uniting everybody and saving the galaxy?"

"Yeah, but Shepard isn't one to admit to that sort of thing." He chuckled to himself in some kind of amusement. "Not..._quite_ as good a shot as the vids make out, though."

Her eyes grew dark, tapping the medi-gel on her knees. "So it's all about just going through the motions and doing a person's duty."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"To follow orders without thinking of where it will get you? That listening to someone who apparently has _credentials_ will automatically make things turn out for the better?" She puffed a hollow laugh. "Yeah, I can see that as a bad thing."

The plates on his face rose and fell when he didn't speak, seeming to be studying her expression. She bit the sore side of her lip again, wincing slightly but making sure nothing fell off the sides of her bottom eyelids. Nothing was going to stop her from keeping her composure, and no one, especially not this particular stranger, was going to see her upset.

"Duty doesn't always come in the form of orders," he said simply.

Mary rubbed her face quickly, sniffing to clear her airway. "What?"

"Upholding your responsibilities, your _duties_, so to speak, doesn't necessarily come from a chain of command. Sometimes it can only happen if you disobey direct orders." He crossed his arm, exhaling stiffly. "So, you abandoned this friend of yours, but you came after me in some sort of vendetta against a bottle throwing incident only to have a discussion about duty."

She pinched her nose from running, scrunching her face to how odd that sounded. Where he was going with it, though, she couldn't be sure. "I guess..."

"That seems like a very random line of thoughts to go through," he stated, twiddling his thumbs. "Unless, of course, you've been thinking about this for awhile and the C-Sec officer watching you managed to make it worse."

Her eyes grew wide in surprise. "How did you...?"

"I used to be C-Sec myself once," he shrugged. "You're a refugee wandering around Citadel public looking like a vent rat and, to top it off, managed to walk into a restricted area. Not too hard to figure out."

"He...He's just doing his job," she muttered, running her fingers along the black and blur scar forming on her brow. "That's all he ever had to do. His job. His duty to C-Sec. That's all that ever mattered. But he was always so nice to me and I...I yelled at him for it. I said I wasn't a replacement for his family..."

His mandibles drooped in what she assumed was a frown. "That wasn't meant for him."

"No," she couldn't help but let out a sob, placing her eyes against the base of her hands. "He's all I have left, even if it is for only a little while, but I...I just keep screwing up. Why do I keep doing this?"

"I could tell you," he grumbled from his corner, "but I don't think you'd like the answer."

Her lips flattened, her tone becoming bitter. "_Fine_. How stupid am I?"

"You're not stupid," he shook his head, making her drop her arms and sit straighter. "If stealing my gun is any sign of your resourcefulness, you're at least smart enough to think on your feet. Maybe what you _did_ was stupid, but that's not the same."

"Then what am I?"

"In a word? Hopeless."

Her head lowered, eying him speculatively. "Hopeless?"

"People tend to do stupid things when they've lost hope. They'll search for reason and purpose without having much reason and purpose themselves." He thought for a moment, pointing a talon lightly in the air when he came to a conclusion. "Chakwas used to call it...Hm, what was it? The five stages of grief? Sounds right, anyway. You must be on your last leg to start picking fights with strangers."

Without reason or purpose. It was a sad state to be held in. Despite the fact that she knew nothing of these 'stages' he was referring to, somehow giving a name to her actions made her feel better. She was grieving, and she had been for a while. Something in her mind gave a small inclination of why she couldn't just move on after all that time, letting it fester like an open wound in her chest. She refused to let the thought sit for too long, however. Instead, she bit her lip like always.

"Believe me," he continued, "if this was a few years ago we wouldn't be having this conversation. The fact is I...know what I'm seeing. A slight variation, obviously, but it's still there. I used to stare at it in the mirror every morning. Then..."

He drifted, rubbing the torn side of his face as his mandibles lifted in contemplation. Mary set her knees back on the floor, shifting her body towards him.

"Then?"

The turian oddly smiled. "Then I found my purpose. Found where I belonged."

Her gaze wandered around the glass, her brow raising when she looked back at him. "Your duty with Shepard?"

"That's one way of putting it," he nodded.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked honestly. After threatening to put a heat sink through his eyes, she was astonished to hear him trying to console her.

His voice hummed in his throat once more, half amused and half thinking about it himself. The man stood when the elevator suddenly jostled, Mary placing her hand on the wall. She could feel it moving slowly again, coming to a halt on the nearest floor. When the elevator doors opened, she shakily came to her feet, her eyes then begging for an answer.

"When all is said and done," he finally replied, "people your age are going to have to clean up this mess. The last thing the galaxy needs is another suicidal vigilante."

He paused, strangely laughing as he exited. Mary followed shortly, sidestepping as a silent, grass-hopper looking alien passed her. The man named Garrus waved to the side of his head as he carried on without her following, ignoring the people who stared, confused, at the scene he left behind him.

"Find your purpose, kid. Just try not to get yourself killed in the process."

—

On his way back to the apartment, he felt like his feet moved on their own. There were long stretches of time where he didn't remember walking. Voices rang out as they usually did, but he no longer paid any mind to them. He just didn't care.

"Officer Aquilin!" a familiar sound caught his attention, slowing his pace and glancing towards it.

He realized he had made it all the way to the entry corridor of the Tayseri Ward, Dee Dee standing in the doorway of her shop. Though the air was the same temperature it always was, she held a red scarf around her shoulders, stepping out to try and greet him. Strangely, she held an unfamiliar expression, almost like she was nervous. He didn't want to stop, but as she caught up with him and grabbed his sleeve he knew he should at least say something. It was the least he could do for all she had done.

"Not now, Dee Dee," he said honestly, half turning towards her. "I'm not in the mood."

"When have you ever been?" she joked halfheartedly, her eyes becoming concerned when they fell upon the gash in his head. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," he answered quietly.

After a long pause, Dee Dee huffed, taking his hand and pulling him towards the store. "Well then you can tell me all about it when we fix this bump of yours!"

He didn't resist her care when he entered, placing her shoes and tracking device down before sitting on the tall stool she retrieved from around the counter. She went quickly through one of the aisles before returning with a package of medi-gel, Tertius allowing her to lightly pat it against his forehead. Though it stung, he only managed to express his discontent with a few eye twitches, too deep in thought to even notice the burning antiseptic.

"I was worried," she confessed, rubbing a bit more of the substance on a gauze pad. "You've been gone all afternoon and I was afraid you actually had gone to the docks."

"Why would that have mattered?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Haven't you been paying attention?" she scolded, tapping his head a little more forcefully as punishment. "They've been saying it for a few days now. Periodic blackouts, people getting unruly, some even disappearing..."

"What? I haven't heard about that last part," he rose his voice a little, Dee Dee shaking her head.

"It's been...infrequent," she drifted, forcing a smile a moment later. "But that's really not important right now. No more worries."

Continuing to patch up his skin, she could tell he was distant, his eyes darting away from her. She was determined to get a better look at him, placing her hand on the side of his face and angling it towards her. He assumed it was so she could better treat his injury. While that may have been partially true, Dee Dee held her own reasons.

"The light. Where did it go?" she wondered aloud, making Tertius glance back through the windows into the hallway.

"What light? They all look on to me," he said, turning forward when he heard her chuckle.

"No, not that," she replied, tossing the used gauze pads onto the counter. "The light in your eyes."

He shook his head, "I don't understand."

"Humans have a saying," she began, crossing her arms. "'The eyes are the windows to the soul'. I guess a way to explain it is you can see how a man is feeling without any signs on his face. All he has to do is look at you. For the past few weeks you're soul has been...content. Now I'm not so sure. So, where did your light go?"

Tertius remained silent, keeping his gaze to the floor. It was pretty clear to him that she already knew the answer when she sighed, and he would have been right. Dee Dee leaned over again and placed a hand under the right side of his jaw, lifting his sight line into hers.

"Hey, whatever it is, it's not nearly as bad as it seems. Human women are passionate." She thought about her words for a moment, bobbing her head back and forth slightly before continuing, "_Fickle_, but loving nonetheless. You are not a bad man, and I know that whatever you did you've already apologized a hundred fold for. If your happiness was any indication of how she feels about you, you have _nothing_ to be sad for. She'll be fine. You'll both be fine."

He finally looked her in the eyes, seeing something he had never noticed on her before. She was smiling. Not her flirting grin or a devious, lip-bitten smirk, but a small, quiet smile. The change was almost shocking, fitting her so much more beautifully than any amount of makeup or tight clothing she wore to make herself more appealing. In return he tried to smile back, feeling the heaviness in his chest start to dissipate.

"Thank you, Dee Dee," he said, taking in a breath. "Thank you for everything. You've done so much to help me these past few weeks...these past few _years_, really, and I don't think I've ever said anything. I've been kind of ungrateful, actually. I'm sorry about that. I'd make it up to you somehow but I don't think I ever could."

"I can think of something..."

She had dropped her arms to her sides when he spoke, reaching out and touching the sides of his mandibles. He didn't object when she proceeded to sit on his right leg, though he was a little skittish when her face drew only a few inches away from his mouth, her eyes examining the uniqueness of his features. Tertius waited to ask what she was doing, but blinked as she slowly craned her neck, feeling her kiss the wound on his head. She folded her arms around his neck and along the inside of his carapace, leaning her ear against his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll be happy again," she whispered, her voice beginning to choke. "Life's too short to be angry or hurt, especially when we're on such borrowed time."

"What do you mean?" he asked, unsure how to react. "Like you said, there's nothing to worry—"

"_Just_..." she tightened her grip, calming herself before finishing her thought. "Just promise me, okay?"

He nodded slowly as a reply, placing his left hand lightly on the back of her shoulder. It felt like she was trembling, sniffing in the corner of his hearing as she lifted her chin up. That trembling turned into a sudden snicker, however, developing in to a full laugh as he could feel her fingers on the edge of his carapace. He pushed her back unhurriedly to make her sit right again, startled by her shift in mood and seeing her face bright red.

"What's so funny?" he questioned, Dee Dee standing and wiping the tears forming in her eyes.

"Oh meu Deus! O carneiro mal-humorada!" she heaved, speaking too quickly for his translator to discipher. It was probably best that he didn't know. "That's..._hoo_."

"Uh...what—"

"Nothing, nothing," she waved dismissively, leaning her elbow against the counter. She exhaled a heavy sigh, the usual grin returning. "Just go home a get some sleep, eh? She'll be back in no time. If the girl passes by, I'll be sure to give her a good talking to."

"No, that's...not necessary," he replied, poking at the wound on his forehead as he stood. "I think she just wants to be left alone."

Her smile began to fade again, patting him on the arm. "Alright. If you need anything, you know where I'll be."

"Yeah," he replied quietly, turning for the exit. "Thanks again, Dee Dee. For everything."

If he had really thought about what he had said, he would have wondered if it sounded foreboding. He knew he wasn't going anywhere, only to be held up in his apartment until something happened. What that was, he could only guess. Maybe Mary would come back, or maybe the other C-Sec officers would arrive to find her missing. All he could do until then was wait. He figured he should have been good at it by then; that didn't mean he liked it.

Returning to his darkened living quarters, he entered to find that the lights had dimmed, the clock above the stove in the kitchen flashing. It was apparent that the power had gone out, or at least flickered enough to reset all the electronics. He didn't care enough to fix any of them, grumbling to himself in annoyance. With a headache looming in his skull and his eyes still carrying a faint stinging sensation, all he wanted to do was lie down. As he passed the couch, however, he noticing that his datapad was faintly glowing. Considering what it meant for a moment, he checked his omni-tool, realizing the muted device had received a message.

It was too soon to hear back from his brother, his shoulders slumping at the notion that it would be C-Sec. He knew it was his job to answer communications immediately, if only to report in with any information. Perhaps he should have informed Bailey of her disappearance, but that would have caused an even greater ruckus, let alone a waste of resources, than letting one of the others find her. As he moved to his room, he turned on a lamp light on his dresser before replacing his armor and uniform with more comfortable attire, tiredly sitting down on the side of his bed. Tapping his talons on the side of the datapad, he decided to slide back against the metal backboard and prop his feet up. If he was going to get reprimanded, if not fired, he was at least going to do it in comfort.

Activating the transmission, he sat up straight, his brow plates lifting in surprise. It really was a message from his brother, appearing a little less worn than the last time he saw him.

"_Hey, Tertius. Don't worry about the last message, we were caught up rescuing a squad anyway. The funny thing is, it was a human group the Alliance sent in to meet up with one of the generals. Long story short, we had some downtime when we went to refuel, and I remembered that small problem you had._" He could see his brother's mandibles flare slightly, knowing he was hiding something. "_I still have no idea what you were talking about, and Keeda was busy with some repair work, so I decided to ask them instead. After they finished laughing their asses off at the thought of a grown turian humming a human child's lullaby_," Tertius was chuckling at himself at that point, "_they said they knew what it was. They, uh, said they wanted to tell you themselves._"

The recorder suddenly shook as he heard laughing in the background, whirling around what looked to be the inside of the crew quarters. Tertius saw a few turian faces, some shaking their heads while others muttered jokes to themselves. Eventually the screen adjusted to face a group of human Alliance soldiers. Even in the blue, interlaced light of the message he could tell they were battered and bruised, many covered head to toe with bandages. There was even one man who balanced himself on crutches, his left leg missing below the knee. Still, there wasn't one of them who didn't hold a smile, standing in a line as one of them knelt close to the equipment.

"_Caien told us of your problem over there on the Citadel_," the first man began, a woman solider leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"_A _girl_ problem,_" she smirked, the others jeering from behind. "_So you want to know what song she was singing, huh? Well, we got you covered._"

"_And if she doesn't believe you know,_" the man continued, standing back in line with the others, "_you just play this message from your buddies on the front._"

They all laughed in agreement, looking to the man with the missing leg to carry a beginning note. When they all vocalized different octaves, the soldier who had started speaking snapped his fingers in a beat, the others starting to clap in sync.

"_You are my sunshine," _they all began to sing,"_my only sunshine! You make me happy—Woo!—When skies are gray! You'll never know, dear, how much I love you—Sing it now!—So please don't take my sunshine away!_"

"_From Palaven with love, baby!_" a man hollered over the cheers that erupted when they finished.

The recorder jostled around once more, Caien's face appearing with an expression that tried hard to restrain a grin.

"_Whatever gets your mind off things, right?_ _We're back on duty in a few minutes, so I'm sorry to cut this short_. _I'll message a more serious note—_"

"_Hey, that was totally serious!_" the human woman's voice piped up in the background. "_A matter of life or death, even!_"

"_Yeah, because human women can mean death if you look at them fun—_Ow!_ Really? I'm missing a leg here!_"

"_You'll be missing a lot more if you don't shut it, gunny!_"

Caien finally released the chuckle that was buried in his chest. "_I'll talk to you later. And, uh...Good luck with that._"

The feed cut out. Tertius found himself continuing to laugh at what he had just witnessed, too amused by the whole situation to even feel embarrassed. The conversation might come back to haunt him later, he knew, but at that point he just wanted to live in the moment. It was good to hear his brother happy.

He placed the datapad aside and stood, feeling like he should get something to drink before lying back down. Though he knew he probably wouldn't get any sleep, settling in on an empty stomach would only make his aching body worse. Stepping through the hall, he glanced about, his eyes having trouble adjusting to the darkness. Slowly, he patted around the sofa to find the remote, clicking on the vid screen. He knew it was foolish, but maybe when—if—she returned, the static noise would let her know he was around.

Turning back towards the kitchen, he stopped. The flickering light of the vid screen illuminated a figure that he had not seen there before, standing just inside the closed entrance door. Mary's hair had come undone, hiding the face that was aimed at the floor. Her hands were to the side and clenched into fists, much of her feet and knees darkened with something he couldn't be sure. Despite all her changes in appearance, he was just glad to see she had returned.

Tertius remained still, though. He didn't quite know what to say or how to say it. The way her mouth moved, being one of the only features he could make out in the dim lightening, made it seem like she was having a hard time as well. She took a few steps forward then back, her legs tiredly shaking. All he could do was watch as she struggled to keep her balance, her toes clinging to the carpet.

"What were you going to say?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse.

"Hm?" He wasn't quite sure what she meant.

"Before the bottle hit you," she corrected. "You were going to say something. What?"

"I was..." His talons moved against his facial markings with anxiety, debating whether he should answer. It didn't take very long for him to give up on trying to be cautious about what he said or what it would mean for his job. For once, he just wanted to be honest. "I was just trying to say that there are very few things, very few people, that I give a damn about anymore. My brother is one of them and...you'd be another. I know it might be a little strange or even hard for you to understand, but you made an absolute hell-scape actually livable. I can't really explain it myself because, to be honest, I don't even know. Maybe you just have a way of making things seem normal. What I do know is that, while you may think you were sent to this flying hunk of metal to rot...I'm not going to let you die."

"S-So...we're like family?"

He chuckled halfheartedly. "In some weird, vague expression of the word? Yeah...I guess so."

"Good," she said almost forcefully, nodding her head for emphasis, "beca...because..."

"What is it?"

Her arms finally relaxed and crossed over her chest, Tertius noticing that she was holding her breath for several words at a time. "When my sister died I _swore_ that I would never...never cry in front of anybody every again. Nobody but my family. I said that there wouldn't ever be anything sadder to cry over. But...Did you really mean that?"

"Every word."

"Good," she managed to say before letting out a sob, lifting her gaze to expose lines of tears falling from her eyes, "because I could really use somebody right now."

She hobbled over to him quickly before burying her face into his shirt, Tertius stuttering his steps back slightly in surprise. The sound she made was terrible, resonating through his chest and seeming to rattle his heart. What he had heard before, back when she hid from the stranger she grew to know, was nothing compared to what she did then. Her fingers were pressing weakly into his sides, presumably not out of emotion, but out of her frailty. Only standing on her own for a few moments reduced her knees to shaking uncontrollably.

Tertius didn't even notice how his customary uncomfortableness kept away as he supported her with an arm around her shoulder, placing a hand on the top of her head. She allowed herself to cry harder when felt she wouldn't fall, reaching out and clasping her arms around him. The act was odd to him; it was like a hug, but delivered out of grief. Perhaps the gesture held more than one meaning for humans.

When it seemed like her weeping subsided, he lifted her away and knelt down. With the base of his hands, he brushed off the water sticking to her face, remaining lightly over her ears and holding her hair back. She wiped the liquid running from her nose with her wrist and sniffed the rest away.

"You alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll be okay now."

He stood, his mandibles flicking out in a smile and patting her on the back. "Have fun out there?"

"No, but I learned a lot," she replied, looking up at him with a broken gaze. "Do I...Do I really have to go to Citadel Security now?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, shaking his head. "But we'll worry about it later. You look like I feel, and could probably do for a nap at least, right?"

"Yeah," she giggled weakly. "I'm going to wash my legs off, though. Those floors were dirtier than I thought."

"Really? So that's what that is," he chuckled, glancing down at her feet. "You think the Keepers would, uh...keep up on those things."

Mary snorted a laugh, rubbing her eyes as she headed for the bathroom. He followed after to make sure she didn't stumble, lingering in the doorway. When the light brightened the white walls, he froze, noticing that there was more than just dirt on her feet and knees. There was apparent use of medi-gel on her wounds, but even he noticed the crunching sound made when she walked. It was as if she knew what he was thinking without even looking at him, twisting back around and smiling.

"I'm okay. Really," she stated, Tertius nodding in after a time.

"I'm going to go sit down for a minute. Let me know if you need anything," he replied, hesitating before walking to his room.

He sat on the edge of his bed again, finally exhaling in relief. There was a small grin forming on his mouth after staring at his datapad, realizing how much he would be called out on the newly formed definition of _family_. With the way he had poked fun at his brother for wanting to make a quarian his wife, he knew he would never hear the end of it. At least Keeda would have a title of some kind in a family unit. Mary was just...Mary. Then again, it wasn't like titles really mattered in the grander scheme of things. _Whatever makes a person happy_, he believed the saying went.

Movement formed in the corner of his vision within a few minutes of contemplation. Mary stepped barely within the threshold of his door, her fluffy toy sheep wrapped tightly in her arms. Her eyes were to the floor, the expression behind her drifting hair appearing worried.

"Can...can I sleep in here?" she asked, her chin pressing into the sheep's face. "I don't want to be by myself."

Tertius blinked, sitting forward. It wasn't so much the proposition that bothered him, but her reasoning. She could have just slept in her own bed and he would have kept her company on the floor again...Even if he dreaded the thought of spending another night there. Apparently the discomforting idea was written all over his face despite his alien features, Mary stepping forward in his silence.

"I'll sleep on the floor this time! Then we can call it even, right?" she continued, awkwardly laughing. "I promise I won't stay up talking or snore or—"

"_Stop_," he held up a hand tiredly, grumbling as he stood.

Her gaze followed him as he strode back into the hall, opening the closet door and stepping in to grab a few things. Reemerging with her pillow and puffy blanket, she reached out a hand to take it from him, only to have him pass by.

"No one should sleep on this floor, but if you're so dead set on staying in here," he began, setting her items down on the farthest edge of the bed, "you can sleep there. Just...stay on your side. I don't need to be kicked in the middle of the night."

Mary's face lit up brighter than he could ever remember seeing it, watching as she ran and leaped onto her blanket. He shook his head at her enthusiasm, wondering how she could still have so much energy after running around nearly the entire length of the Presidium and then some. Of course, he also wondered how she could be comfy at all sleeping in her blue dress, but neither of those questions would escape his thoughts.

He returned to his side of the bed, sitting against the backboard and noticing that Mary had cocooned herself into a sort of ball, both her head and the sheep's upper body the only things visible. She smiled happily at him, evidently waiting for him to say something before shutting her eyes.

"Better?" he asked, and she nodded in reply. "Good. Don't go fidgeting around either or I'll roll you right off the side."

"Okay," she answered. "Promise."

He grimaced, seeing the gleam in her eyes. "You're not all that tired, are you?"

"Not really," she confessed, burying her face slightly, "but I'll shut up now."

"Don't worry about it," he stated. Tapping his talons at his side, he looked to his datapad, shrugging as he took it in hand. "You interested in watching the real _Fleet and Flotilla_?"

"_Yes_," she beamed, scooting closer as he sifted through his messages. "It's your brother, right?"

"Yeah," he said, activating the first transmission he could remember his brother mentioning the woman he was infatuated with. "I'm sure Caien wouldn't mind you knowing more about him."

"That's his name? Caien?" she glanced up at him peculiarly.

"Yeah."

She smiled, laying her head back down. "It's nice. He seems like a nice guy, too."

He agreed, running over in his head how many messages there actually were. Caien had met Keeda almost two years ago when she ended up on Palaven on her pilgrimage. At the time he was just there on vacation, but stayed in contact to help her with any turian policies she was confused with. He didn't seem to understand the stigma behind the quarians, and hated it even more so after he actually sat down to talk to one on what the young journey was all about. Maybe some were bad people, but that went for any species.

When Caien returned to help with the war effort, even he was surprised she was still there. Apparently the migrant fleet had ordered all quarians to return from their travels, but Keeda didn't have the means or even the will to go back. She wanted to help the people who had accepted her, and with Caien's arrival she was convinced to join a rescue unit, if only to make sure the ships and equipment stayed in top efficiency.

Overall, the messages ran over an hour. Mary remained quiet throughout all of it, even though her eyebrow rose sometimes with a question she wouldn't ask. When he noticed it was down to the last few communications, he paused, remembering what he had actually learned earlier.

"Oh, hey, I finally figured out what that song..." he began, only to stop himself when he looked over.

Mary was fast asleep. Her head ended up leaning over half her pillow, crooked though still appearing comfortable. He was amazed to see that her nose really _did_ resist snoring, but he figured that was more of a coincidence than anything else. Setting the datapad aside, he reached for the lamp light only to have it flicker. It was a sign that the power was likely to go out again. He shrugged, not thinking much of it; they had been lucky that the Tayseri Ward was acting as good as it was those few weeks. Finally shutting off, he carefully slid down onto his back, clasping his fingers over his chest.

He wasn't entirely sure what the next day would bring, but all he wanted was just one more restful night's sleep. Restful sleep for the both of them. That's all he asked before his tired eyes closed, steadily falling unconscious.

—

The flickering of the lights wasn't just isolated to the inner portion of the Ward, buzzing angrily down the circuits until the entrance corridor. No one paid any mind to it, many returning to their homes and settling in for the night. All except a suspiciously-eying merchant didn't even bother glancing up. Then again, if they knew what was going on, they probably wouldn't be so calm.

An omni-tool signal rang out, echoing against the metal walls until it was brought into a store. It's owner hesitated to activate it, glancing off in thought. With a heavy sigh the transmission was signaled.

"What's going on?"

"We're moving ahead of schedule," a man's voice resonated from the other side of the feed.

"What? We still have another week."

"Things change," he stated, almost annoyed. "Apparently Shepard's caught on quicker than expected. Everything's set up here, so he wants us to help with the efforts on Horizon."

"Why didn't I get this message?"

The man paused, his tone beginning to drip with cynicism. "Does it matter? Preparations are finished, right?"

"As far as I know. I'm not the one who was monitoring the cargo."

"No, you were just gathering intelligence from gossip."

"If this is just an excuse to leave earlier—"

"Why, do you actually _want_ to stay here when The Illusive Man decides to take this place?" he snicked cruelly. "Don't tell me you've gone soft, Dee Dee."

She frowned, pressing her nails hard into her wrist. "Just finish it. I'll meet you over in the Lower Wards."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I'm just writing to let you all know that there won't be an update next week. I'll be at a convention over the weekend and I have a lot of stuff I need to prepare, namely finishing mine and my brother's costumes, (Skyrim imperial guard for the win!), as well as practice a two and half minute skit that I'll be preforming with American Sign Language in front of a university theater, (<em>like a boss<em>). But that's why I made this chapter super-duper long, so you have more to think about! (At least that's what I'm telling myself... :'D). On a side note, if you have the time, please leave me some feedback! I love hearing from you guys, (and to be honest, I'm not sure if I'm doing this all right or not...lol). Thanks again to those who have, and those who are still reading this! Traffic stats=love.


	18. Sacrificial Lamb

Chapter Seventeen

Sacrificial [Lamb]

It was well into the late afternoon when Marinus finally started to feel the effects of a drink that was never meant for turians. He had no idea who the human named 'Jack Daniels' was, but the man certainly knew how to make decent alcohol. Every other levo-centric liquid tasted like used bathwater mixed with sweat from a foot soldier's boots. Of course, the only reason why he knew that was due to one very stupid bet a long time ago with the woman sitting across from him. The amount of foreign-bodied alcohol he consumed should have killed him and, at the time, he would have been okay with it. Just as long as long as he wasn't bested by her, who had downed enough dextro-based booze to make any recreational drinker fall flat on his or her face. Not only did they learned that their immune systems were quite tolerant of the opposite amino-acids, but they became quite tolerant of each others presence.

"Do you remember when we had that wager?" he inquired, leaning his elbows on the table.

"Mm?" she mumbled between a sip. "What, the 'gentleman's bet' of drinking too much and waking up with Pallin trying to have us both disbarred?"

"Like he could have ever gotten us fired," he scoffed. "We were off duty anyway."

"You _know_ that's not what he tried to get us for," she smirked. "The fistfight before that had C-Sec out several thousand credits made him fume."

He muttered with a shrug, "He should have thanked us for deciding on a drinking contest instead."

"If it hadn't been for us being too tired, I'd have more broken bones, you'd have more missing teeth, and they would've rebuilt the Lower Ward long before that thing came. What are they calling it now? Reaper? Geth?" She pondered what the news crews were blaming the Citadel's attack on, but set it aside after looking at her empty glass. "Well, that's neither here nor there anymore. That was, what, ten years ago? Half of C-Sec wasn't even here when it happened."

"And the other half is dead."

Lalita paused pouring another drink, adjusting her gaze. With his shoulders hunched forward, Marinus's talons were tapping lightly on his empty glass. She could tell he had a thought billowing with the way his eyes were twitching lightly to various spots around the room, not looking at anything in particular. It wasn't very often that he seemed so disarmed, and she could never recall a time when his voice was so somber.

"Do you remember why that all started?" he continued, his mandibles lowering slightly.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly. "I, uh...finally confronted you. About knowing who you were."

"Who I am, you mean," he corrected.

She rose an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"No, not..." he drifted, suddenly beginning to chuckle. "You know, it's funny. The first time I got you to speak more than two words to me was after we were both drunk off our asses. I remember what you said, you know. How after all that time you went around the system just to find me and...apologize."

Bringing her glass to her lips, she hesitated to drink, lowering it and placing it down. He finally glanced up at her, bearing a kind of remorse. She frowned, feeling her own sense of guilt seep through her warmed face.

"You know I didn't mean what I said back then," she stated. "That it was better that she..."

"I know, but I pushed you to say it. I didn't want to listen," he replied, placing a hand on his forehead. "The truth is I didn't want to listen to anyone, especially not the last person to see her alive. I knew who you were when you stepped off that ship and I just wanted to send you back to Earth."

"Then why didn't you?" she asked quietly.

"Because I remembered what I promised," he answered. Marinus sat straighter after a time, almost trying to think of how he wanted to word his next few sentences. He gave up on that endeavor as he sighed, however, shaking his head. "When you came tripping up out of that field all covered in ash and blood, we weren't entirely sure what to think of you. You were so damn tiny and...odd looking. First human child any of us had ever seen. I wanted to throw you back into the wilds, but Ona, she...couldn't do it. Said you reminded her too much of the boys, especially the way you'd stop crying when you were lifted off the ground. Also said you didn't deserve to share the same fate as your parents. I'll admit, being one of the commanding officers of our platoon didn't hurt her case, though. Before we were captured by an Alliance group from the Second Fleet, before they...Ona made me promise to make sure nothing happened to you. I believed that it would be best to send you back to your own kind, even when she had taken the time to hide you away in case your species abandoned orphans. I wanted to believe it because I...Spirits, I blamed you. I blamed you for her death, for making us drag behind and getting pinned down, even if it was because of a faulty transmission. Shit, you were only a little girl, barely even four, and I held a grudge. All you wanted to do when you finally got the courage to face me was apologize for something that was never your fault in the first place and I broke your jaw with the excuse that it was insubordination. I hated humans. I hated _you_. I'll be honest, I still see the faces of the men who killed her in every member of your species."

"I can't blame you," she said barely above a whisper, feeling the weight of the glass in her hand.

"Yes, you can," he growled lowly. "Turians do not take commitments lightly. I swore that I would not let you fall into the wrong hands. After our argument, I finally went into your record to find out why you refused to talk. It was difficult to sort through all the Alliance bureaucratic nonsense, but I found out that what you blurted out back then was true. Joined when you were eighteen, sent on a routine mission at twenty to the Terminus Systems, confronted by mercs when you were close enough for their biotics to catch you, and...your squad mates torn apart by those bastards."

He watched her rub her eyes, flicking away the tears forming on her eyelashes. Oddly she smiled, trying to make light of the past she had grown to deal with.

"I've never looked at meat quite the same. Not as appetizing when you know what your friend's blood tastes like," she let out a small laugh, only to have it quiver. "It's such a stupid thing, but I just can't help it. Every time I talk out there I feel like it's going to happen again."

"I know," he replied.

With a steady grasp he leaned forward and placed his hand on her arm, Lalita looking up in surprise. After their confrontation over ten years ago she had noticed slight changes in his behavior, mellowing out and holding more respect for her rank. She always owned it up to old age and a sense that he could someday retire knowing she wasn't completely incompetent. Perhaps his actions then were simply due to a dizzied head of allergenic drinks. His next choice of words, though, made her reconsider those notions.

"I've wondered for the longest time if you being here wasn't her spirit's way of tormenting me. Somehow I wouldn't put it past her," he chuckled, making her smile again. "In reality I brought it upon myself. I brought it upon you, and it should have never have happened. For that I'm...sorry. I am so sorry, Sophia."

Silence fell between them, Lalita diverting her eyes for a time. Eventually, she reached over and placed her own hand on the top of his, smiling with flattened lips. She nodded slowly, acknowledging his apology. Content with her acceptance, Marinus sat back, grabbing the brown tinted bottle as he went and pouring himself another glass. He hesitated to drink, however, when she laughed, wiping her eyes away.

"But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Believe me, if she really can hear me over there, I'm sure she's getting sick of it by now."

"And if she can't, I'm sure you're going to be hearing about it later," she said, taking the bottle back.

He held the glass near his chin, pausing for a moment before downing all that was there. "With the way things are going, I'm sure that won't take too long."

"What?"

"This galaxy is in flames," he stated, "and sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be better to let it burn itself out."

Another moment lingered, Marinus scratching his talons on the table. It became apparent why he suddenly felt the need to confess his apologies, and she knew he had been serious, but Lalita wasn't about to be fooled by the sudden darkened surface of his eyes. She grinned, leaning her cheek into her palm and pointing at him with glass in hand.

"So," she began, "how's the grand kids?"

"Calling my bluff again, huh?" he sighed, his mandibles lifting in a smile. "Well, they're doing fine. Their little colony world managed to stay under the radar from the Reapers so far, but they've made preparations just in case. Raynus and Elia are expecting a little one soon. Supposedly it's a girl."

"Really? First granddaughter then," she pointed out. "Congrats. That makes three sons, two daughter-in-laws, and five grandchildren. It's really adding up for you there, huh?"

"Don't put it like that," he grumbled. "You're going to start to make me feel old."

"What are you talking about?" she laughed. "You were fighting Alliance soldiers on Shanxi when I was _four_. You _are_ old."

"Maybe, but still too young for me to retir—"

A loud beep echoed from the omni-tool on his wrist, drowning out the rest of his remark. Lalita waited patiently for him to continue, almost glad she had a moment to compose herself. He had never spoken like that before, not to anyone. Deep down she was glad he had; despite his animosity in the beginning, he had always strove for her to be better and defended her place in C-Sec even with her debilitating fear. At least then she finally knew why, but she wasn't sure if she would ever admit her thanks. Or if he wanted her to.

His eyes narrowed after a time, reading a small message that made his face draw into concern. Placing his arm forward on the surface before him, he glanced up at her, silently instructing her to watch the video he was about to play.

"_Sir, we have a situation,_" the recording began, spoken in little more than a whisper. "_We finally managed to open the power duct, but there's something...off. There's unauthorized crates everywhere that stretch all the way back to the sealed docking entry. There's no markings or means of identification on any of them, but some of them have these..._things_ sticking out of them. Like giant spikes or something that've hit into some of the power lines and conduits. But there's something else down here. We can hear something scuffling around, a-and...there's this weird hum. Rodriguez went missing after complaining of a headache and...and I'm not sure where we are, sir. Our censors are screwed up and it's too dark to see half of anything. We...we could really use a flashlight or something, sir. I've sent you and attached message with the coordinates for the last duct we investigated. Hopefully they get to you. Gia out._"

"When was that sent?" Lalita asked, her gaze wide in shock with how much the usually composed officer's voice sudden fell apart towards the end.

He stood, tapping his fingers lightly in thought. "Four hours ago, but it was only received just now."

"That much signal interference?" she questioned, standing with him. "I'll go with you."

"You should stay in case Commander Bailey has any more information to send," he replied, stepping out into the hall.

"It could be a hostile situation," she commented, continuing to follow him.

"I know that," he huffed shortly, glancing over his shoulder to see she was not letting up. "In fact, I'm expecting it to be."

"Well, I think you need an extra pair of eyes watching your back," she stated, waving to the officer at the reception desk and receiving a nod to confirm they were leaving.

He paused after exiting the main entrance, turning back with a disgruntle gaze.

"I don't need backup for this. They just got lost in the dark," he said, shaking his head.

"And you think you'll do much better with all that whiskey running through your system?"

"I'll get over—"

"Somebody say something about whiskey?"

Marinus closed his eyes slowly in a calm frustration, a growl humming in his throat as he rubbed his forehead. Lalita looked to their side when she heard Mayfield's voice pipe up from a distance, her three officers quickly walking up to them. She tried to restrain her smile, if only to keep the turian's aggravation focused.

"_Why_ are you _here_? I told you people that you were dismissed," Marinus seethed between his teeth, rubbing the red markings on his face. He waved a hand, however, walking away. "Don't answer that. I don't have time for this."

Lalita glanced one way and then the other, motioning for them to follow as she continued her pursuit behind him. The officers tried to grasp the situation before saying anything more, Asira clearing her throat.

"Lieutenant, we may have a situation on our hands," she explained in a hushed tone, trying to make sure Marinus was out of earshot.

"I agree," she nodded.

"So...you know already?"

Lalita rose an eyebrow, stuttering her steps. "Wait, what are you referring to?"

"What are _you_ referring to?" Mayfield asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"There's a situation down in the power ducts that nee—"

She felt herself become off-balanced when her shoe scuffed into something, stumbling slightly. When her eyes lifted from the floor, she noticed it had been a woman's shoe, bright green in color and matching her short, floral-print skirt. How or why anyone would subjugate themselves to walking in such things, Lalita could never understand, but the way the woman's hair and makeup were so pristine, she figured she was overly familiar with the practice.

"Oh, my apologies!" the woman chortled with embarrassment. "You know these walkways! Too narrow for their own good."

Lalita lowered her brow as the woman stepped away, whistling a tune. She turned around hurriedly, however, expecting Marinus to be down around the hall by the time she spotted him. Surprisingly he remained, waiting for her to catch up before continuing on.

It seemed that their group did not notice the pair of eyes watching the woman with dark hair, nor did anyone else for that matter. The men who remained stationed in the Lower Ward offices of C-Sec, though few in number, didn't even glance up as she entered, the woman briefly hesitating at it's threshold. She twirled her finger in her hair, her eyes darting about the room to examine who and what was there. Before long she reached for the base of her skull, pulling out a small pair of nose plugs that had been pinned and taking in a deep breath.

"Time to go home," she muttered to herself, reaching to her sides and pulling the containment doors closed.

She plugged her nose and clicked her heels together before a single officer realized what she was doing, tossing her shoes forward as the lights flickered and the air became stifled with white smoke. The rooms were flooded rapidly, the sound of violently filling lungs rasping and then finally growing still with a multitude of thuds. Eventually a beeping sound rang out, a distant hum blowing away the gas and the power coming back to full strength.

No alarms. No officers. It was painfully easy, but she wasn't about to complain. The doors opened again to the sound of her accomplice fiddling with his omni-tool, itching at the white markings under his eyes.

"A little slow on the ventilation there," she stated, crossing her arms.

"Don't mock my methods, Dee Dee," he spat, "unless you want to learn how to hack an age-old system."

"You make it sound impressive," she mumbled, rolling her eyes when she caught him glaring. "_Fine_. It's..._neat_. Now do you really need more ego stroking or can you go fetch the batarian, Nerva?"

His voice reverberated in his chest with amusement, stepping off and heading for the interrogation rooms. "Make yourself useful and find us some exiting passes."

"What happens if these guys wake up? I know it filtered through the entire office but some of them might be less susceptible."

He shrugged. "Shoot them. They'll all be dead by the end of the week anyways."

Her gaze followed him like knives on the back of his spiked head until he vanished around the corner. Knocking out C-Sec officials was one thing, but killing them outright? It seemed a little extreme. Then again, she wondered if it wouldn't be better for them; at least then there would be a possibility for a proper burial.

Dee Dee tried hard not to think of what they were doing past the immediate situation. Though she had been stationed on the Citadel merely for intelligence collection, working for Cerberus had its way of changing career paths. It wasn't like she could say no to them without getting her head blown off, and if she had known that when she had joined she would have stayed on Earth. Sure it paid well. Sure it had a promising outcome in regards to staying alive. She just wasn't so sure if the price was worth it.

It wasn't hard to find three clearance passes to exit Citadel space, putting back on her shoes and waiting beside of the reception desk. While they didn't necessarily need them, the emergency status would allow for a quicker escape. She was curious how he was going to managed getting away undetected, however, especially since C-Sec had their eyes on him. Not that she would be devastated if he was left to the horrors lurking in every corner.

She looked up when she saw movement, seeing him reemerge...alone. With a frown she placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head curiously.

"Where's Balak?" she questioned.

"Said he wanted nothing more to do with us and stayed behind," he answered, adjusting his uniform.

"You know we can't let him stay here," she said. "Overhearing us talk to Ghorek and then going along with it because of some batarian code of honor was enough of a liability. We only let him live because he could have been a useful alibi. What makes you think he won't talk when we're gone and spoil the whole operation?"

"Believe me, he's not talking to anyone," he replied, planting his vision back onto his omni-tool as he strolled towards the entrance. "Do you have them?"

"Yeah, but I guess we won't be needing the third—"

"Keep it," he interrupted, stepping over a man's head. "We'll be needing it."

She followed him out into the hall, looking each way to make sure no one had noticed them. The corridor was as empty as they had arrived, not that that was any surprise. Even before the Reapers attacked, no one in the Lower Wards seemed to care enough to do anything if it didn't directly affect them. That, and the streets had been pretty much abandoned considering all the power outages.

There was something suspicious in the way he kept fussing with the device on his arm, Dee Dee catching a glimpse over his shoulder to see he was looking up addresses. She grinned, about to speak a witty remark before he spoke above her.

"We'll head back to the store and get the supplies. I need to get something, and then we can be off."

"Care to tell me what that something is?" she asked, tapping the side of her mouth with one finger.

"You'll see," he grinned, making her smile wear away. She didn't like it when he smirked like that. Nothing good ever came of it. "Oh, and great job throwing me to the dogs. I nearly got caught receiving a transmission from command."

"You said you needed a distraction to keep them away from the crates, so I gave you one," she shrugged, noticing that the man in front of her decided to take the stairs over to the Tayseri Ward.

"Well, it _worked_, but it was a pain getting any business done with the other officers breathing down my neck."

"Wait, you actually work?"

"More than your lazy-ass species," he shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder how this organization gets anything done."

"If you hate it so much then why'd you join it?"

"Same reason anyone would. Place has fallen apart due to the incompetence of the Council, and I just want to keep my head above water while everyone else drowns in their own denial. Besides, C-Sec has screwed me over enough times to want to see this place burn. I'll retire to some backwater planet where humans will never want to go and call it a day." He paused, scratching his talon upon his chin. "You know, from what I read of your dossier, you were born with a pretty prestigious family back in...er, what was it called? Started with an 'r'...?"

"It's Rio," she hissed. "And if you're asking why I left it's none of your damn business."

"Sure it is. How else am I suppose to know your intentions are legitimate?"

"I can assure you—"

"I need more than just your assurance, what with you..._living_ here for so long."

She glared, pressing her red lips together in a frown. It was clear he really didn't care about trust, but simply wanted to see her wince at the thought. A form of payback, she supposed, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her visibly upset. "I left because...no one cared enough to stop me."

"Really?" he chuckled. "That's it?"

"That's it," she replied. "Though to a turian I'm not sure if that means much."

"I'm not sure that means much to _anyone_ but you. Still, a reason's a reason. Good enough."

They remained silent the rest of the way, the Ward's lights dimmed more than usual for that time of day. Dee Dee stepped up to her store, expecting him to file in after when he stopped, almost like he was looking for something. After lifted the rolling, metal protection door, she leaned against the glass entrance and crossed her arms.

"No, we're not bringing your 'girlfriend'," she grumbled. "I'd end up killing her before we ever got to Horizon."

"Huh? Oh, her. No, she was just, uh..."

"Used to spy on me?" she answered for him coolly.

"Can't be too sure anymore," he shrugged. "Especially with how, er...close you were getting. Never did found out if the girl was still on the Citadel, did you?"

"If you had given me more time I could have thought of a different distraction for you," she huffed, ignoring his question. "Then maybe you wouldn't have to worry about getting out of here."

"Haven't you been watching the news? I'm not worried in the slightest. We'll be out of this thanks to C-Sec," he grinned awkwardly again, making her brow lower. He waved a hand behind his head as he left off down the hall. "I'll be back in ten. Make sure you have everything ready."

—

_Thump_.

His eyes flung open with a hard smack to the side of his face, Tertius feeling her clenched hand fall back down onto his shoulder. He turned his head to find that she was still where she had been, mumbling something in her slumber and subconsciously stretching out to take over what little space remained. Rubbing his eyes, he returned his gaze to the darkened ceiling with a grumble. He wasn't entirely sure how long he had been out, but it didn't feel like it had been more than an hour. How he was going to manage to get any more with her moving around, he wasn't entirely sure.

There was a moment when he smirked, considering owning up to his previous statement and pushing her off the other side with his foot, just to see how she would have liked being woken up abruptly. It was fleeting, though, as he senses began to notice something about the room. Besides for her breathing, it was quiet. The humming of electricity through the walls was gone, the clock to his side dead. He assumed it was just another power outage, that everything would rest in a matter of minutes and he could try to rest his eyes again.

That is, if it wasn't for a sudden scratching sound.

It was loud and jarring, Tertius lifting himself up in surprise when it nearly shook the bed's headboard. Though he knew it might have been a rodent moving through the walls, the way it continued to echo slowly against the other side of the metal surface made him think otherwise. It sounded way too big to be something commonly found in the ventilation system. In three or four scrapes, he finally brought his head close to the wall, listening closely. The noise ceased long enough for him to hear some sort of breathing, chilling his spine when it sounded almost artificial.

He backed away quietly, glancing around quickly to see where he had placed his gun. It wasn't on the dresser, nor was it near the bed. The only other place would be in the living room, and he sighed in frustration remembering that that's where he had set it after returning earlier. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he reached over and shook her shoulder.

"Mary, wake up," he whispered, seeing her groggily open her eyes with a groan. "You need to go to the other room."

"Wha...? Why are you whispering?" she mumbled between a loud breath.

"Quiet!" he exclaimed in a rasp, his eyes darting to the walls when the metal scraping sound echoed off the walls again.

Mary sat up in fear, holding her sheep close in her arms as she looked over her shoulder to where the noise could be coming from. Her eyes wide in horror, she turned to Tertius, wondering silently what it was. He shook his head as a reply, helping her to her feet and letting her pass as his gaze remained fixed to the wall. For the first time since he had lived there, he wondered if the redesigned Ward had been reinforced enough to hold against anything coming through it. The only thing that really matter, however, was if it was enough to keep whatever it was kept behind the wall.

He spun on his heels and closed the bedroom door behind him, hesitating next to the closet door. Wonder flooded his mind as to why his pistol was no longer on the low-lying table in front of the vid screen, narrowing his gaze as he stepped out of the hall.

"Mar—"

"Tertius!"

Her scream was drowned out by the sound of a gunshot, a flash filling his vision momentarily before he was jostled back, hitting hard against the covered frame of the sofa. He sunk to the floor, pressing away the pain growing in his chest. Blue blood seeped quickly through his shirt, dripping through his fingers and along his arm. With a suddenly heavy head he lifted his gaze, blinking profusely with disbelief to what he saw.

"Ne...Nerva?" he questioned, swallowing the liquid beginning to coat his throat.

The white-marked turian had his gun wrapped in a cloth, glowing from the heat sink he had just fired. He held Mary by her hair with his other hand, his talons tangled in her knotted locks and gaining a stiffer hold the more she squirmed. She screamed even as he yanked her head back, pulling at his arm and kicking at his legs. It was only a few seconds before he had enough of her antics, pressing the gun to her head.

"We can make this easy or even easier! Your choice!" he shouted, Mary's cries growing still with a gasp.

"Nerva, stop! What are you doing?" Tertius pleaded, hunching forward with an outstretched hand.

"Getting my ass off this sinking ship!" he replied. "Blondie here has caused enough trouble. Damn well could have cost us the Citadel if C-Sec had put two and two together. Might as well make use of her somehow."

"You're...you're with Cerberus?" he breathed, his voice stunned. "But...why?"

"That's a good question," he grinned, dropping the piece of fabric around the handle and grabbing Mary's arm with his other hand in a single motion. She tried forcefully pulling away, but his grasp was too strong, making her fingers latch around the pistol briefly and then tossing it over the kitchen counter. He lifted her arm maliciously, making her wince as her right foot nearly dangled off the ground. "How does that saying go for you people? 'Don't fight the devil, he'll see you coming; get on his good side and stab him in the back'? Something stupid like that. Your myths were always so hard to remember."

"You're never going to get off this station!" she shouted at him, yelping when his grip tightened.

"On the contrary, my departure was accidentally set long before I even knew you were still here. If that damn shopkeeper had actually done her job and found out sooner, this could have all been avoided."

"What are you saying?" Tertius squinted, gritting his teeth.

"Like I'm going to sit here and monologue to you," he shook his head, pulling Mary towards the door. "It's pointless explaining things to a dead man."

"No! I won't go with you! I won't!" Mary began to flail again, even as the seams of her dress began to tear.

His voice rumbled with aggravation, lifting his own gun off the other side of his belt and aiming it into her eye. She pressed her lips together but remained calm, staring him down as he spoke.

"Then you can just die here with him," he said, arming the weapon. "Nothing wrong with a little murder-suici—"

"No!" Tertius coughed, waving his arm to get the man's attention and finding himself falling onto his elbow. "You won't. You still need her. Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered coming here."

"What makes you so sure?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the girl. "Maybe I just wanted to see the bitch suffer for making the last few weeks more difficult than they needed to be."

Tertius let out a gurgled chuckle, "Since when have you ever done more than what's necessary?"

Mary watched as Nerva rolled his eyes, knowing then that he really did need her for something. It was enough of a thought that made the wheels in her head turn, her eyes looking around the room to think of something, _anything_, that would stall him. Someone had to notice the noises, someone from the last C-Sec group had to come back and check on them, and she could only hope it was soon.

She could see Tertius slump over, his body giving out on him as his blood pooled on the carpet. His talons dug into the floor, his breathing labored with every second that passed. As her captor moved them closer to the entrance, she made herself become limp, mustering all the strength she could to become as relaxed and heavy as possible.

"I don't need you around that bad—" he muttered, his face twitching when she yelled over him.

"I'll go, but I need to say goodbye! Let me say goodbye!" she cried, pulling at his hand.

"Really?" he grumbled skeptically. "He's right there. Say goodbye."

"No, I..." she tried to say, holding back the sadness forming at the tips of her eyes. "One minute! Just give me one minute and I'll go! I won't argue and I won't complain and—"

"Just do it!" he shouted, tossing her forward onto her knees. "Spirits, your voice is annoying..."

She scrambled over as fast as she could, helping him to sit upright again. He was cold, his usually dark plates and skin noticeably paler. Placing her hands on the sides of his face, she tried to get him to straighten his head, bobbing around deliriously.

"Tertius, stay awake, okay? You got to stay awake," she said, her voice choking between her quivering features.

"Mary, you..." he coughed, attempting to lower his voice as much as he could. Glancing up to Nerva and seeing he was designating something more on his omni-tool, he placed a hand on the back of her head and drew her closer, his words muffled by her hair. "Go with him. Something's going on here, and...and you need to get away as far as possible."

"You're hurt. I can't let you die," she sobbed, lowering her head into his shoulder.

"They'll need you to get off the Citadel," he continued, feeling her wrap her arms around him. "I don't know where, but once you're away you...you run away as far as you can. To the Alliance. To your grandmother. Anybody...but don't come back here."

"Don't die. Please, please, _please_ don't die," she begged, pressing her fingers into the back of his carapace.

"I won't," he shook his head. "I'll find you. I promise."

"Sure you will," Nerva spoke up, pulling her away from him by the hair. She didn't scream that time, but reached out as she was dragged away, tears dripping off the side of her face. "You were always such a bad liar, Tertius. The least you could do is be honest to her in your last moments."

Tertius's vision began to split and drift in different directions, watching with blurred eyes as Mary was hoisted to her feet. Nerva signaled for the entrance to open, shoving her out into the hall. He could hear distant voices that made the turian pause, making out a muffled explanation of 'a misfire' and 'damn kids' before the door shut on him.

Bailey had once described that getting shot 'felt like hell'. He wasn't entirely sure what he meant by it at the time, or what this 'hell' actually was for humans. What he did know then was that it hurt. It hurt _a lot_. The hole in his chest burned across his plates and the surged through the muscles underneath, the lower portion of his right side beginning to numb. He figured it was a response to keep from feeling too much pain; by the way he could taste blood coating his teeth he realized that his lung was filling with fluid. Hell was certainly an awful thing to have a manifestation like that.

He cursed the fact that he had left his things scattered about the apartment. After being so good about placing things within arms reach for so many years, especially his omni-tool, he found it ironic that the one time he needed support he had no means of calling for it. The device that was suppose to be on his wrist was on his dresser. His gun to start firing to get anyone's attention was in the kitchen. He was barely awake enough to sit himself upright, and crawling to the door was out of the question. He couldn't even manage to raise his voice above a mumble. Maybe he really had lied to her unintentionally. He didn't want to admit it, but the pain he felt made that truth quite evident.

The lights around him flickered back to normal, the door remaining unlocked from where Nerva had apparently bypassed it when the security system was down. Tertius took in a heavy breath, the clear image of his face, and hers, passing in his mind. Maybe it was determination, or maybe it was denial, but something made him collapse onto his side, digging his hands into the carpet fibers. He wasn't going to die there, not like that, and he'd be rightly damned if 'hell' was going to make him break his promise.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So, uh, who else was caught off guard by the new EC endings? I know I was. Granted it was suppose to come out this summer, but I haven't been keeping up with it sooo...yeaah...found it randomly a few hours after it came out while looking up some information for this story, lol. Made my awesome weekend even more awesome when Half-Christmas Santa left that in my xbox downloads, I tell you what. (Frickin' 1.8 gb basically destroyed my memory, though, but it was worth it seeing how the squad mates left and new scenes. I'll admit, I still went renegade. XD; I have my reasons, and it was certainly harder to decide this time). But I'm rambling! More story and plot unraveling is yet to come! Hope everyone who has a holiday over the week enjoys it, and stay cool out there! :D [listens to huge fireworks everyone in America seems to have outside].


	19. It Was One

Chapter Eighteen

It [Was] One

Saying goodbye was a lot harder than she expected it to be.

After gathering all the supplies they would need, including food, clothing, and concealable guns, she set them upon the counter and waited. It was quiet for the longest while, left to her own thoughts and forced to consider the consequences of her life choices. Of course, she didn't regret where she was then. She only regretted getting to know someone who would suffer the worse Reaper onslaught in the galaxy.

The more she stood there in silence, the closer she became to reaching for a pen and paper. Though she knew spelling out what was about to happen wasn't possible, considering she couldn't risk everything they had tried to accomplish, she knew she should at least say something. Even if he may never come by her store to find it, writing a note would at least remove a partial bit of weight from her conscience. Whatever conscience she had left, anyway.

Dee Dee managed to write his name, a comma, and an expanding dot where her pen repetitively hit the note. There was a time where she wondered why she was using a notepad instead of an electronic message, glancing out the window every few minutes to see if Nerva had returned. Eventually she paused, rolling her eyes with the realization that she was stalling herself. Why was it so hard just to write 'nice knowing you, it's been fun, be sure to take a vacation with your lady friend this week'?

As she began to draw a line starting her sentence, she noticed movement in her vision and sighed, looking up in a brief moment of relief. Seeing the other Cerberus operative should have calmed her and made her glad they were leaving. Instead, she rushed out into the corridor with eyes wide in horror and fury at the companion he held tightly by the arm.

"What in God's name are you doing?" she hissed, her voice low to keep it from echoing off the walls. Mary noticed that the woman's hand was reaching out slightly towards her as she spoke.

"Who?" he grinned, shrugging. "Oh, you're upset about her. She's our exit strategy."

"Wait, how—"

"Did I find her? I still wonder why Cerberus keeps you around when you don't even watch the damn news. There was a brawl at Purgatory and I spotted her in the background of a news report. Wasn't too hard to figure out where she was after that, since your _boyfriend_ hadn't been back to work and he was somehow with other security officers."

The way he spoke his last sentence made Mary narrow her gaze, curious to the actual situation. The merchant before her obviously held some feelings for Tertius, considering how red her face was becoming, but he had distinctly said he didn't have a girlfriend. He couldn't have been lying to her, since he seemed very adamant about dismissing the claim. Something just didn't add up.

"But her dossier said she was off-Citadel, that she'd left with her parents," she objected, following him into her store.

"What can I say? Paranoia is a beautiful thing," he replied, scratching his white facial markings as he tossed the girl to the side. "Bailey clearly wanted to keep her location a secret but have her around for a testimony. Making Balak think there was more than just one Cerberus agent working for C-Sec worked to our advantage more than I expected."

"Wait, it was just you?" Mary breathed, feeling guilt start to well in her chest that perhaps she, too, had mislead the investigation.

He shrugged. "As far as C-Sec goes. Once Cerberus dropped off those crates all they needed was an intelligence officer, a couple of mercs to distract the Lower Wards, and someone to monitor the situation with security. Other than that, everything else was pretty self-maintained."

Mary could feel her knees wobble underneath her, her face warming in the sense that she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears no matter how hard she bit the inside of her mouth. She tried to maintain her composure, though, gritting her teeth and adjusting her grief into anger. That merchant. He had trusted that merchant with helping him find her, so then why would she betray him like that? How _could_ she?

"I trust you've packed everything," he stated, going through the items on the counter.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking to Mary with a dark yet pained expression. "So where is he? Where's Tertius?"

"Even went by a first name-basis, huh?" he scoffed, an agitated glint in his eyes. "What does it matter? We'll be out of here shortly."

"We should know if he's going to try and find her," she explained.

He picked up what could be placed in his pockets and left the rest, turning to face her. Mary jumped in surprise when he stepped close to the woman's face abruptly, his mandibles tight to his jaw. Dee Dee remained stern, however, placing her hands slowly on her hips.

"Is that really the reason?" he questioned, a low but short growl echoing in his chest.

"Would I have any other?" she replied, her upper lip stiff.

"Then you'll be glad to know we won't have that problem," he answered after a time, turning for the door. Mary could see the woman's eyes falter when he wasn't looking, growing sad. "Bring the girl. We're done here."

"One second," she said as he opened the door, hearing him sigh. "I need to get her some proper footwear. We can't leave with her looking like this."

"Do what you need to do and meet me out there," he grumbled, stepping out.

Dee Dee made sure the entrance had closed before walking around the counter quickly, Mary watching as she scratched something down on a piece of paper. The shopkeeper reached below and pulled out a device Mary recognized, placing it upon the note. She also grabbed the pair of shoes from before, Mary's eyes widening in realizing what she was doing. Why she was doing it, she couldn't be sure.

"Did he see your bed?" she asked quietly, placing the heels down and taking her hands gently.

"Uh...N-no, he was walking through the door when he saw me," she replied, stepping into them with the woman's aid. Her feet were still pained from the day prior, but she had too much on her mind to truly think about it. "H-he pointed a gun at me and I was too scared to scream until..."

"Good. Don't tell him anything," her voice rasped, almost like she would shout if she was pushed anymore. "Otherwise we'll both be over our heads."

Dee Dee frowned, standing straight when the girl pulled her hands away forcefully. Mary stumbled slightly when she moved away, but kept her eyes on her, shaking her head and pressing her lips together.

"You deserve to be!" she spat, brushing her hair out of her face. "He trusted you, right? Didn't you care at all what happened to him, or were you just using him to get to me—"

Dee Dee grabbed her arm, her eyes growing dark. "I knew where you were the entire time. I could have had you killed whenever I wanted, but I wasn't about to steal his light from him. In fact, I _kept_ them away from you for his sake, and that man out there has already made me pay enough for it. Do _not_ make me regret that."

Something clicked in her mind as the woman dragged her along. The turian who had stolen Mary away mentioned wanting retribution for making his life miserable those last few weeks. Though at first she thought the comment was aimed at her, she was starting to understand that she hadn't been in line for his anger at all. No, she was simply a tool to be used to get off the Citadel. The man named Nerva was furious with the shopkeeper who had helped Tertius, a barrier of animosity wedged between them as they walked. She wasn't entire sure what the woman had done, but it was clear that Dee Dee was attempting to control some kind of damage herself; perhaps she had helped Tertius more than just finding her, more than she was suppose to. Mary wondered if the woman knew what happened to him at all.

When they had reached the civilian docking bay, they paused at its entrance, noticing how packed it had become. Many people were piling into both private and public shuttles, most hovering around a group on the far end of the port. Before Mary could completely take in the surroundings, she felt herself being tugged hurriedly by her other arm, wincing when Nerva's talons dug into her skin. Dee Dee remained close to her side, though, her thumb and index finger pinching at the collar of Mary's dress. The three of them stepped up to one of the receptionists that wasn't as busy, Mary watching as Nerva put on a smile that even she could tell was plastered falsely.

"Good evening," he said smoothly to the asari woman, appearing too worn out to care for his attempt at charm. "Three exiting for Horizon."

"Passes?" she asked with a yawn, Dee Dee handing them over with a small smile. "Names?"

"Officer Nerva Lexin, Dee Dee Bettencourt, and Mary Bell," he replied, waving a hand to each of them respectively.

The asari swiped each card over a small device after looking up each name in a computer, presumably to enter their names. She paused after establishing the cards for the two adults, glancing at Mary and then to the turian C-Sec official.

"It says here she's suppose to be off-Citadel with her parents," she pointed out, eying them curiously.

"Yeah, _suppose_ is the key word, I'm afraid," Nerva sighed, shrugging. "She slipped off the ship to do some exploring on her own before anyone noticed. I was put in charge of escorting her back, and luckily her aunt was here to make sure she ensured passage back to her family."

"Oh, of course," she replied with a smile. "So many people don't want to leave because it's so nice here, but I hear Horizon is beautiful this time of year!"

"I certainly hope so. I could use a little time off," he chuckled, taking the passes from her.

Mary scrunched her nose, wondering how the asari could believe such a story. She finally saw what an exceptionally good liar looked like, and she came to the conclusion that a horrible one was much better to be around any day. As they turned to leave, Mary keeping her eyes on the turian who had a grip on her, she found herself stumbling in her shoes again, her shoulder knocking into the man directly lined up behind them. Though she was pulled away, her eyes widened when she recognized the voice that belted out.

"Hey, watch it!"

The man in yellow armor held his arms up in agitation, lowering them slowly when it seemed like he recognized her as well. He adjusted his footing to gaze at her with his one good eye, seeing the flat expression on her face. It was evident that he knew that look; in truth, he had seen it many times before. She walked while staring at him, pleading in her eyes for him to understand what she was silently trying to say.

"Better have someone watch your back then," she shakily spoke, afraid that they might catch on if she said too much.

"Yeah. I'll do that," he replied, his stance remaining even as she fell out of view.

Mary wasn't sure if his answer was sincere or not, but still hoped he would catch on. The thought began to wear away when they approached a large group of people at the entrance of white, new-looking shuttles, many shoving and pleading to gain entrance. The three of them passed with a simple nod from the armed guard at the opened access door, a multitude of objections falling out of earshot when they boarded.

The shuttle was nice, even if a bit cramped, filled with people of all types in plush chairs. There wasn't much else Mary could see before she was shoved into an aisle seat, Nerva glaring down at her before walking off towards the pilots in the front. Dee Dee stepped by and sat beside her, remaining silent as she took out a datapad and began to sort through files.

Mary sighed, unsure what to do. It seemed like every time she left somewhere familiar, she was always leaving someone behind. Someone she cared about. Losing her parents had been almost too much for her to take, even when Tertius had been there to comfort her. To think that she was leaving him behind, that the only person left could be dead...She wouldn't think of it. Mary cleared her thoughts the best she could, staring blankly at the seat in front of her. It became fuzzy, however, biting the inside of her mouth to keep the water from vacating her vision.

"Why are you crying?"

She blinked in surprise, turning her attention to her right. A small asari girl gazed at her with big, concerned eyes, tugging at her purple dress. Mary wasn't entirely familiar with the aging process of the blue-toned species, but she could tell by the way she acted and talked that she couldn't have been any older than five or six. She didn't want to alarm the child, though, smiling and wiping her tears away.

"I'm just missing someone," Mary replied, placing her hands in her lap.

The girl looked to her, to the woman beside her, and back again. "Are you missing your father, too?"

"Well, yes, but...um..." she drifted, trying to think of how to word her next sentence correctly, both for herself and the Cerberus agent sitting beside her. "I miss my friend right now. He's...still here."

"Don't worry," she smiled. "He'll catch up, just like father. He's working right now. He sent me a message for my birthday, though! Once he's done he said he'll meet us at Sank..._Sank Too_..."

"Niri!" a woman a few rows up scolded, Mary glancing around the chairs to see an asari mother fixing another girl's headband. "Get over here! I told you not to bother the other passengers."

The little asari waved before obeying, disappearing from view and taking her seat. Mary observed the rest of the cabin for a moment more, watching as the 'now boarding' light flickered off and a voice spoke over an intercom. She didn't recognize where they were going, only that it finally had a name she could etch in her mind, a name that she would find painfully ironic.

_Sanctuary_.

—

The more they moved towards the power ducts, the more desolated the Lower Wards seemed to become. It wasn't that there was a lack of people; there was hardly anyone ever down there to begin with. There was something in the air, though, that made all of them stand on edge. Even Marinus was showing signs of uneasiness, his fingers tapping lightly on his sidearm as they walked.

Lalita had already told the other officers of the situation, but she forgot that they were going to bring up a subject themselves. Her ears began to ring after a time, her head swimming in a growing headache that made her nauseous. It took every ounce of strength not to let it show on her face, her eyes twitching at the sharp pain at the base of her skull. Eventually, Dairu brought their concerns to her attention again, wondering if it was an appropriate time to speak.

"Ma'am, we do have a slight problem that may need our attention later," he said, clearing his throat.

"What? Oh, right," she remembered, rubbing the back of her neck. "What is it?"

"Our witness, she...We found her in Purgatory," Asira began, glancing to Mayfield who seemed to be hurting as well.

"What did you just say?" Marinus stopped, half-turning towards them. Lalita paused herself, her brow lowered.

"She found her way out of custody and wandered off to a bar," Mayfield clarified bluntly, holding the side of his head. "The officer who was watching her took her back to the Presidium."

"And you didn't think to bring this up sooner?" Marinus's voice rose, Lalita gritting her teeth at the sound.

She pointed to Dairu and Mayfield. "You two. Go find her and don't let her out of your sight. We can't risk someone finding out she's there. We'll meet back up in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, ma'am," Dairu saluted, turning on his toes and walking back.

Mayfield weakly saluted as well, rubbing his temples. "Maybe I can find some aspirin while we're up there."

Marinus huffed, face plates lifting subtlety as he continued on. "Commander Bailey really did keep her around then. I'm going to have to have a word with him after this."

It didn't take long to reach their destination, finding a large, metal entryway that extended from the floor to the ceiling. Marinus commented about how it was easy to get lost in the dark when the main light source was closed off, but shrugged it away when he tried to access the control panel. Strangely, it flashed with static, reading an error message upon its screen. Bringing up his omni-tool, he tried to access is manually, gazing up every so often so see that Lalita's face was slowly contorting in pain. Asira put a hand on her back, noticing that she was hunching over and raising her hand to her face. When he had finally managed to unlock the gate, he took large strides to stand beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, just...Just a bad headache," she breathed through her pain, the two other officers helping her to lean against a wall.

"I'm starting to feel one myself," Asira replied, her eyes narrow.

"Same," Marinus nodded, making sure Lalita was standing securely before stepping in front of the opening door. "Stay here, Lieutenant. Make sure this door stays open."

"No, I should—"

"Stay here," he answered for her gently. His eyes grew stern when looking over at Asira, perplexed by his behavior.

She quickly stood beside him as he waved her over, the two gazing in through the opening of the massive room. It didn't take long to figure out why there weren't any lights illuminating the surroundings, or to figure out why the Lower Wards were suffering from such frequent power outages. Stepping in, they noticed that the ceiling was sparking, some of the cables broken off and writhing with active power on the floor. There were crates of all shapes and sizes cluttering every part of the area, making crooked paths that lead them further away from the entryway. Asira lit her omni-tool when the light from the hall had faded enough, brightening the side of one of them to read what was there.

"18-5-1-16-5-18?" she repeated the sequence aloud, tilting her head with curiosity. "Just below that it reads 'human'. What do you think it means?"

"That these shouldn't be here," he muttered, slowly taking his pistol off his belt. "Can you get a signal to contact the others?"

She tried activating a communication line in the device, only to have its glow start to dim. "No, there's too much interference. Maybe it's the broken cables."

"Gia! Rodriguez! L'noa! Where are you?" he shouted, the ache shooting through his body making him lose his patience.

The response he received was not what he was expecting. A gunshot rang out and bounced off the blackened walls, the stale air growing still. Marinus was the first to turn back with Asira quickly on his heels, realizing that the sound had been fired near the entrance. Weaving through the makeshift aisles of crates, they finally emerged and saw two silhouetted images. One was standing. The other was crawling.

Lalita held her weapon with an insecure stance, wide-eyed and shaking at the sight before her. She didn't peel her eyes away from the creature hissing at her for a moment, it's body trailing a line of black fluids from where it was missing its hips. The blue lights of its cybernetics reflected off the dust and scorch mark from where Lalita had fired a warning shot, oblivious to her caution and holding nothing but malice in its deadened eyes.

"Goddess..." Asira gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

She stood back and watched as Marinus carefully approached the creature from behind, trying to figure out what, or who, the thing was. He stood beside it for a time just out of its peripheral vision, noticing the tattered remains of a security uniform. It was apparent Lalita had recognized it too, otherwise she wouldn't have missed. With a low, thoughtful sigh he quickly aimed his pistol and fired at its head, splattering a wide liquid array across the floor. The lights of the creature dimmed, finally expelling its last breath.

"Is that...It can't be," Asira shook her head, walking around to examine the situation herself. She drew her eyes away from it after a time, seeing Marinus put a hand on Lalita's still raised wrist. The lieutenant jumped, almost as if she didn't realize he was there. "What do we do?"

"Warn C-Sec. Tell them we have a situation here and to make sure word doesn't get out that we could have more than just a few Reapers on our hands," he replied, moving to the control panel. "We need to allot our resources into purging this area before anything gets out."

"Wait, what about the others?" she asked, noticing he was about to close the hatch.

Her question was answered in the form of a spine-tingling screech, reverberating off the metal structures and hitting them to their cores. Lalita stumbled, her gaze still fixed to the dead being on the floor. Asira caught her arm before she fell to her knees in both terror and pain, the three remaining to be sure the entryway closed before hurriedly heading back.

—

They would have much to discover, however, as Dairu and Mayfield became the first to know. To get the Presidium, they were forced to take the long way around and pass the Lower Ward offices. While Mayfield grumbled about the Citadels shoddy construction and lack of exits, he shut himself up when they noticed coughing and groans coming from the wide-open doors of C-Sec.

The two entered to find their coworkers either passed out or barely conscious, leaning over pieces of furniture or collapsed on the floor. Mayfield volunteered to make sure no one was seriously hurt as Dairu went to check on the inmates, expecting to find a prison break. Both speculated that it could have been one of the merc groups, catching the establishment off guard to free one of their leaders or important members. It didn't quite seem like the usual methodology, though; it was expected to find at least a few dead men. The poison, or whatever was given, must have been extremely fast acting for not one person to even have a gun in their hand.

Mayfield had barely finished examining one officer before Dairu returned, his pace almost panicked.

"Balak is dead," he stated. "It was quick. He was still seated when someone shot him in the head. All the others are still in their cells."

A short pause drifted between them before they both looked at each other, holding a well educated guess as to who was behind the attack.

"We need to call for a med team for these guys," Mayfield proclaimed, turning for the door. "Tell them they've suffered from oxygen deficiency. I can't find anyone who's vitals are down, so they'll be fine for now. We need to go find this girl."

"Agreed," he nodded, typing a message into his omni-tool and following him out into the corridor.

When they reached the Presidium offices, they were relieved to see it in better shape. Everything seemed to be running as it always was, almost annoyingly complacent considering the situation. Of course, they came to know why it was so calm; no one had seen the girl or the C-Sec officer she had been with. Concern set in deeper, the two informing the main branch what had happened in the lower offices and heading out quickly.

"What should we do now?" Dairu asked, trying to raise the lieutenant on a direct comm line. Nothing he did seemed to work; the network just kept getting an error message.

"Start with this Aquilin guy," he answered, raising his own omni-tool to find an address. "He has some explaining to do."

"Where do we find him?"

"Start at his apartment and then...Make it up as we go, I guess," he shrugged with a grin, trying to make light of a deteriorating situation.

The Tayseri Ward was dim, darker than anytime either of them could remember. The lights in the ceiling had faded, many starting to flicker off. Any conversations that were taking place formulated in quiet whispers, unsure if speaking any louder would cause something disastrous to happen. Dairu and Mayfield planned on asking those around later if they had seen the others, but getting to the apartment was their number one priority. There was a brief instant where they wondered if the turian guard had fooled them all, even the girl; maybe he was an undercover Cerberus agent all along and halfway gone already. The reason why it as so short lived, however, came when they approached the unlocked door to the man's home. They knocked a few times but didn't receive an answer, drawing their guns abruptly after opening the entrance.

Blue blood was soaking the carpet, a trail smearing along the back of the couch and around to its front. They both made sure the area was clear slowly, Mayfield glancing down the hall and Dairu examining the kitchen before heading around the sides of the sofa. They paused before quickly spinning around it, pointing their weapons to the floor in case someone was hiding. The man there wasn't hiding, though; he was quite out in the open, holding a container of medi-gel in one hand and letting its contents work on the hole in his chest.

"About time you all showed up," Tertius breathed, letting out a small chuckle as he waved the medicine canister lightly in the air. "Though I can't say much against procrastination. Otherwise I'd probably be dead."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Bonus points to anyone who remembered who that asari mother is! :D That family's importance will come up shortly. In other news, some of you might have noticed a new story cover. Well, it is; I was bored Tuesday night and decided to photoshop something, lol. If anyone's curious for a bigger version, (since these ones are so tiny D:), here: h.t.t.p.: / i1095. photobucket.

com/albums/i472/angeldragoon/meposter. jpg (Without the spaces and the dots in the http, obviously, lol. There is a space before jpg, so if it says 'image not there' it's lying!) More to come!


	20. To Be Sure

Chapter Nineteen

To Be [Sure]

There was only a brief pause to figure out what was going on before both Dairu and Mayfield holstered their pistols. Taking a more extensive med-kit from his belt, Mayfield went to work trying to patch up Tertius's chest, Dairu walking about to examine the rest of the apartment. While his wound was deep, the medi-gel did most of the work healing his insides, leaving only a fleshy clot that could be cauterized. It wasn't without it's moment of teeth-gritting pain, but it made it so he could at least sit up properly.

"Well, it'll do for now," Mayfield stated, helping him to lean against the sofa. "You're going to need to go to a clinic and get a prosthetic, though. Your plates were pretty much fried. What did you get hit with, anyway?"

"Standard issue with heat sink additive," Dairu chimed in, walking over with the weapon he had found in the kitchen. He held it carefully and scanned it with his omni-tool, searching for any anomalies. Blinking slowly, he looked over to Tertius, seeming to know exactly what he was about to say.

"It's mine," he answered, poking lightly at the tanned, exposed connective skin. "Bastard used my own gun against me."

"Who?" Mayfield asked, rising to his feet.

"Nerva Lexin. He's an officer down in E24, and he hacked the lock to kidnap Mary," he replied, clenching his teeth as he attempted to stand. "We have to catch them before they get off the Citadel."

"As much as it would be a relief to believe this," Dairu spoke up, placing the pistol on the back of his belt, "your story does not match your evidence. There are only human fingerprints on this gun."

Tertius stood dumbfounded, trying to grasp was he was getting at with a growing sense of frustration. "What are you saying? That she was the one to shoot me?"

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" Mayfield said slowly. He stood away from him again, placing his hand on his belt.

"You can't be serious!" his voice rose. "The more we stand here arguing the greater the chance he's gotten away!"

"How do we know she even left?" the human brought up. "What if she ran—"

Mayfield silenced himself as a loud bang echoed from the other room, sounding like bending metal followed by light scratching. Tertius stood straighter in concern, remembering the noise he had heard earlier. In seeing his quiet anxiety, the two other officers retrieved their pistols, stepping around the sofa towards the open door to the bedroom.

"Somebody give me a gun," he spoke quietly.

"I am sorry, but we're not authorized to do so," Dairu shook his head, glancing to him briefly.

"Is there a reason you know of why we should give it back?" Mayfield questioned, narrowing his gaze and leaning his body to see around the doorway.

They each froze, gazing on as a darkened figure crawled across the bedroom carpet. The lights on its body flickered when it moved, its joints popping with a sickening squishing sound. It cracked its neck after abruptly noticing them, its wide eyes glowing menacingly at them. A scratchy noise growled from an open mouth similar to a human's, digging its metallic fingers into the ground.

"What the hell is that?" Mayfield virtually yelled out of a alarm.

"The reason you should give me back my gun," Tertius replied coolly.

The creature's features brightened as it let out a screech, crouching before it sprinted for them. The two younger officers did not hesitate to fire, watching as it flinched with every shot. Black liquid seeped from its wounds but continued its pursuit, sliding on the blood on the carpet in a futile attempt to stop and crashing into the couch. It slashed at Mayfield's legs while the three men backed away quickly, hopping onto the sofa's back to examine its prey. Tertius stepped behind it quickly near the window blinds, noticing that its attention was drawn to the people shooting at it. As the C-Sec officers emptied another clip into the distorted figure, he rushed for the bedroom, grabbing his omni-tool off his nightstand and a small, drawstring bag to pack his datapad. He turned and noticed the vent on the floor on the opposite side of the bed, seeing how the filtration grate had been torn off its hinges and shuddering at the thought that they could have still been sleeping.

By the time he entered into the hall, the creature was twitching with its face planted onto the floor. It had apparently gotten close enough to have its blood, if it could be called that, splatter across Mayfield's face and clothes, trying to wipe away what he could with the back of his hand. Dairu looked over to Tertius, waiting for the turian to show him the contents on the bag before holstering his pistol.

"Reapers? There's Reapers on the Citadel?" Mayfield breathed, his head tilted in disbelief.

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" Tertius said dryly, ignoring the glare the human officer gave as he glanced around the floor.

"More correctly, I believe they're called husks," Dairu pointed out, trying to diffuse the stifled air. He checked his omni-tool once more, its signal still reading as an error message. "It may have traveled on one of the ships, but we should not risk it. We should report back immediately."

"Yeah," Mayfield nodded, heading for the entrance. "Unless you want to stay here and fend off whatever else might be lurking in the air ducts with a kitchen knife, I suggest you follow us."

"It wouldn't have to be just a kitchen knife if you gave me my gun back!" he objected after them, his eyes falling upon Mary's stuffed sheep that had rolled into a corner. Either she had dropped it or Nerva had thrown it to the side; whatever the reason, he picked it up and placed it into the bag, taking up the rest of its space. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to take it, but it was a fleeting thought he couldn't deny.

"You can ask Commander Marinus to have us relinquish your firearm," Dairu replied, waiting in the doorway for him to follow.

Tertius shook his head in disapproval but left without another word. Though he attempted to lock up the apartment, the door's panel didn't want to respond, taking a few tries before it would close. In fact, it seemed that all the electronics were starting to act up, the lights in the ceiling dimmed yet surging every so often in an intense burst. They silently figured it was wiser to take the stairs, entering into the main corridor and noticing that it, as well, was darkened, finding it almost difficult to see. There were quite a few civilians standing out in the walkway, looking about and whispering to each other what could be going on. Not wanting to incite a panic, the on-duty C-Sec officials reassured those they passed, stating that they should remain calm and return to their homes. _Calm_ was not exactly the word Tertius would have used to describe the moment. It was protocol, but he was beginning to see that it only lulled people into a false sense of security. Something was happening and, if Reapers were involved, things would be getting a lot worse.

While he knew they needed to arrive at headquarters as soon as possible, he paused in front of the one place he realized would have noticed Mary and her kidnapper. Perhaps she may have even tried to stop them; he could only hope Dee Dee had pulled that much information. As the other officers were speaking to one very irate woman, he made his way over to the shop, noticing immediately that the lights were off. What was strange was that the store's doors and windows were still exposed, but there didn't seem to be anyone around. He searched down the isles and around the counter to no avail, his gaze finally falling upon a white piece of paper and the tracking device she had used before. She had placed it away, he remembered, and seeing an expensive piece of equipment out in the open was enough to make him take it and the note in hand. Turning the sheet over, he squinted momentarily, trying to make out the foreign scribbles. Typing for a translation on his omni-tool, it finally recited a language he could understand.

'_Follow the green dot, Grumpy Sheep._'

He stared at it intently, trying to figure out what exactly it meant. While he didn't understand why, he knew that she had been addressing him with that title. It also made his heart sink with the realization that something had happened to her as well.

"Hey, you coming?" Mayfield spoke from the doorway, Tertius glancing up and realizing they both were there. "What are you doing in here, anyway?"

"I...know the woman who owns this store," he answered, slipping the tracking device into his pocket as he walked over. The last thing he wanted was for them to conclude something that would drag her into that mess. "I figured she might have seen where they went."

"She's not here?" Dairu asked. "Hm. Strange that a merchant would keep their shop open."

"I know," he grumbled a reply, carrying on down the hall.

They arrived at the Lower Wards offices only to be told to return to the Presidium, and investigation crew quarantining the area. All the officials that had been there, including their superior officers, had been relocated to a more secure area. The gravity of the situation wasn't entirely apparent until they witnessed the conversion of C-Sec's main lobby into a clinic, pouring out slightly into Presidium walkways from a lack of space. The agents that had been in the Lower Wards had to be treated, and it didn't seem like any of them would be moving any time soon.

The three of them had a hard time deciphering where to look for anyone higher in command through the masses of people and hospital gurneys. While Tertius was asked several times if he needed assistance, given the massive hole in his chest and blood staining his shirt, he refused, knowing that the wound was stable. There were more pressing issues at hand.

Eventually they spotted Asira from across the room, standing next to Lalita who, surprisingly, was lying down with a cloth over her face. The lieutenant had swapped her usual formal attire for a more casual uniform, her hair undone and cascading around the sides of her head almost as if she sat down once and hadn't moved since.

"Lieutenant," Dairu spoke when they stood beside her. "We may have a situati—"

He stopped as she held up an arm forcefully, pressing against her forehead with her other hand. She sat up slowly with Asira's help, pulling the cloth from her face and gritting her teeth in the light. Lalita blinked a few times, glancing to Dairu and Mayfield before she paused on Tertius, her brow lowered.

"What happened to you?" she questioned, her voice raspy and harsh before she cleared her throat.

"Ma'am, my apartment was broken into and Mar...our witness was kidnapped," he said, catching himself before he displayed an unprofessional demeanor. He still worked for C-Sec, after all, and he needed her as much on his side as possible.

"Supposedly, Lieutenant," Mayfield chimed in. "We found his gun but with only her prints on it, so it's an anomaly we can't overlook."

"That's because he wanted it to look that way!" Tertius exclaimed. "He was careful to be sure that only her prints would show up!"

"What, and frame her for it?" he scoffed skeptically. "What would be the point?"

"To distract us from finding them before he escaped! I know you two are fresh out the academy but really?"

"And what's that suppose to mean?"

"_Quiet,_" Lalita shouted, the two men adjusting their gaze to find she was rubbing her temples.

"Ma'am, we found a husk in his apartment," Diaru said softly, anticipating for her to yell at him as well. She simply nodded in affirmation, her held tilted and staring to what seemed to be something over Tertius's shoulder.

"There are Reapers on the Citadel!" Mayfield stated, holding out his hands for emphasis. "It can't be a coincidence that one just happens to fall out of the vent in his apartment!"

"No, it can," she sighed, standing as she cracked her neck. "We know there's Reapers. They're crawling down in the lower power ducts. Commander Marinus is already speaking with Commander Bailey about the situation. Somehow I'm not surprised one made it into the air ventilation, but this could be more severe than I thought."

She stepped in front of Tertius, her eyes still fixed on something behind his head. Brushing by his neck, he felt a small tug, watching as Lalita brought her hand back and examined whatever had been on him. She gave a small smile, turning her index finger around and showing him the black furred, perturbed looking sheep sticker.

"Bailey certainly believed you, and so do I," she said, placing it onto his collar. "Besides, we don't have time for this. Go find some new clothes and armor. We have a criminal to track down. And Mayfield?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

She grinned, turning on her heels towards the individual offices. "I believe you owe this man an apology."

The two stared at each other for a moment, Dairu deciding immediately that he should stay out of the picture and stand beside Asira. She, of course, was rightfully confused by the whole situation, and kept her attention on something else across the room. Mayfield scratched the back of his head, genuinely seeming embarrassed. If he didn't have a means of apologizing, Tertius would have been satisfied enough with that.

"Sorry about that," he said, Tertius accepting his statement with a short wave before heading for the supply storage.

Lalita walked down the hall where the two commanders had found somewhere quieter to talk, much to her pounding head's relief. It appeared that they hadn't even made it to an office to carry on their conversation, finding the situation urgent enough to discuss openly.

"So they must have been using the weapon's smuggling to draw attention away from the ducts. Smart move," Bailey thought aloud, his arms crossed and his back leaned against a wall. "We know Cerberus has ties to Reaper technology, but to actually plant those things on this station...I can't even imagine why they chose to do so."

"All that matters is getting rid of those things before they enter into the general populous," Marinus proclaimed, turning his head when he noticed movement in his vision.

"I believe that may pose a problem, sir," Lalita spoke as she approached. "Apparently the others spotted a husk in the Tayseri Ward."

"So that's where they were. About time they reported in," Marinus grumbled, shifting his weight onto his other foot. "If there are Reapers all the way in the other wards, there may be other loading zones for these things."

"And the only person who would know who's involved or even where these places could be is dead," Bailey said in aggravation.

"That may not be the case, but we have to act quickly," Lalita began, tying her hair back once more. "The guard watching our witness says that she was kidnapped. I'd imagine whoever did it knows what's happening here. It's likely he'll want to get off the Citadel."

"Then we need to find them before that happens," Bailey stated, standing straight. "You take a team to the civilian ports. It'd be the only way to leave the Citadel without drawing too much attention. I'll coordinate teams to scout out areas where there might be Cerberus plants. Sound good to you?"

Marinus nodded. "Comm systems seem to be out, so if we find anything I'll send an officer back with any information."

The officers parted ways, Lalita walking alongside Marinus back to their squad members. They informed them quickly of the situation and went along to collect armor and munitions from the supply. Tertius had already found himself another set of armor, taking a moment to breathe and sitting down next to the arsenal. He could see out of the corner of his eye as the two superior officers spoke to one another, glancing over every so often. Of course, he knew exactly what they were talking about—What they would have him do. It wasn't like they would need him, nor did they probably expect much out of him. He was still weakened by the missing plates in his chest and by his failure. In fact, the pain of letting her go seemed to dig much deeper into his expression than any amount of physical damage he had sustained. He could only wonder why, then, Marinus walked over, sitting down on the bench across from him.

"Did you see the man that did this?" the commander questioned flatly, leaning forward on his knees.

"Yes," Tertius answered. "Nerva Lexin. He worked patrol down at the docks."

"Hm," he mumbled, clasping his fingers together. "Can't say I knew him personally, but the Lieutenant won't be happy. She has a habit of mentioning officers that are particularly grating."

"Is there anything else, sir?" he asked, trying to get to the point. Whether he was going to reprimand him or have him fired, he just wanted to get it over with to figure out the next step.

Marinus remained silent for a time, glancing over to make sure the others were keeping busy. There was something on his mind, evident by the way he shifted in his seat. Tertius blinked, confused as to why it took him so long to answer.

"You should be fired for this," he began lowly, "but...I'm not going to be the one to do it."

Tertius's mandibles flicked out slightly in surprise, asking something he knew he probably shouldn't have. "Why?"

"_Why_?" Marinus repeated with a lose chuckle. "I let you keep your job and you're going to ask _why_?"

"Sir, I—"

"Sometimes the best man to have behind the trigger is someone who actually cares," he said, straightening his uniform as he stood. "I don't care much for humans, but if anyone tried to hurt those I consider family I would kill the sonofabitch. I assume we're in agreement in that regard."

Tertius nodded, accepting the commander's extended hand for help up. "I'll help you find him, sir."

"We're all in need of some redemption," he replied, waving a hand for him to follow.

When the others had gathered their things, the C-Sec officers left for the main civilian shuttle port. There was an eeriness even in the Presidium, the lights faded even with the reflection of the center pool. Things settled into a more normal atmosphere when they reached the main docking area, but even then things were uneasy. There were many people waiting around, murmuring something about how there should have been more shuttles or how unfair it was to be left there.

They made their way around the area, asking if anyone had seen a white-marked turian with a blond haired human girl. No one knew who they were speaking of; not even the tellers could say who they had seen with any distinction, since there had been such a rush the last few days and many had to switch shifts. It was frustrating to the point of deciding to hurry to the smaller docks. As they were about the leave, however, Tertius's attention was caught by a man opening a ship's door, staring intently at him with his one good eye.

"Hey, I know you," he stated firmly, pointing his gloved finger. "Damn camera inside can screw up your face, but I remember."

"You're Mr. Massani, correct?" Tertius spoke slowly, confused as to why he, of all people, would take a moment to say something.

"And you're that officer from the docks," he replied. "Looking for the girl, I take it?"

"What do you know?" Lalita question harshly, the others noticing that they had begun a conversation and standing beside them.

"Nice to see you too," he muttered. "She left with some officer and a dark haired woman who was dressed...How do I put this? Well, she wasn't too bad on the eyes."

"Left? You mean off-Citadel?" Lalita inquired, looking back to Marinus.

"Where did they go?" Tertius asked, his voice filled with concern. What he had feared the most was coming to light. Both Mary and Dee Dee had been taken, and the worst might come of it.

"I asked the 'representatives' out in front where they were headed. I've never actually seen civilian shuttles that needed armed guards before, let alone ones in full-plate armor. Sanctuary must be one hell of a place to keep it so secure."

"Sanctuary? That's that refugee camp on Horizon, isn't it?" Mayfield questioned to no one in particular.

"In the Attican Traverse, which means Council law can still have leverage," Dairu stated, all eyes turning to the commander on what to do next.

Marinus paused, crossing his arms in thought. On the one hand, it was obvious he was comparing all options to what protocol would dictate. On the other, there was a fire burning behind his eyes, one that showed his displeasure for being deceived by an officer that should have been protecting the Citadel. He pointed to Mayfield, turning for the entrance.

"You, go tell Bailey we're following a lead off-Citadel. Tell him I'll trying sending a data message when we arrest the suspect and get what we need from him. He should have the communication systems operational by then," he ordered, having the others follow behind him.

"Yes, sir," he replied.

Tertius hesitated, watching as the man named Zaeed Massani leaned against the ship's opening. "Thank you."

"You can thank me by getting her out of that mess," he said. "She seems like a good kid."

"Wait, you've met her before?"

"What, she didn't tell you?" he laughed, shrugging as he disappeared from view. "Barely a minute or two back at the docks. Tell her the _elderly_ man said to mention it when you see her."

Tertius's brow lowered in thought, but brushed it aside for more important matters. They needed to get to the place called Sanctuary, as it seemed that there was more than one life that was in danger. He could only hope that they would perhaps keep each other safe.

—

Sanctuary was not as pleasant as all the advertisements throughout the galaxy and on the Citadel made it out to be. In fact, it was crowded, loud, and filled to the brim with people who had nowhere else to go. It was like a larger version of the docks, except there weren't any crates to hide behind. Instead she was filed out, taken off to the side with a forceful grip by the former turian C-Sec operative. They were in his territory, and he did not seem to fear being seen moving her at an unapologetic pace. It wasn't long before they entered into the main building, passing many who stood in line and waited for access into the facilities. The two Cerberus agents didn't pay any mind to them, but knew exactly where they were headed as they walked up to a man in a suit. He had his eyes plastered to a datapad, sounding irritated while speaking to the armored men around him.

"We've been over this before," he huffed, rubbing his forehead. "The mother is sound so send her to processing. What's so confusing?"

"Sir, she has children with her. The guidelines to asari children with mixed parents is still unclear," one of the men answered.

The man looked up, almost puzzled by his response. "Send them to resource management. Send anyone who's not on the list for processing there."

"Yes, sir!" they replied, saluting before heading off towards the lines.

He let out a heavy sigh, glancing over as they approached. "Foot soldiers. Can't live with them, can't seem to teach them a damn thing, am I right?"

"I'd say so," Nerva agreed. "How're things going around here? Seems promising enough."

"Oh, I assure you Mr. Lawson has made some decent strides over the last few weeks, and..." He stopped himself, finally looking down at the girl wincing under the grasp of the turian's talons. "Who's this?"

"Our escape off the station, but she's no concern now," Dee Dee spoke, placing a hand on Mary's shoulder. "I'd be happy to take her to holding until—"

"I'm sure the good doctor could put her to better use than sitting around, Ms. Bettencourt," Nerva grinned, tugging her away. "Wouldn't you say so?"

"Hm," the man bounced on his toes, kneeling to become eye level with her. "What's your name, dear?"

Mary glared, keeping her lips tightly pressed together. She wasn't about to tell him anything; all she was thinking of was how to escape from them. The man smiled at her silence, however, chuckling when he poked her nose and she flinched.

"A quiet one, are we?" he commented, standing once more.

"She wasn't that way when we left," Nerva jeered. "Her name is Mary Bell, and she's sixteen years of age."

"Sixteen, you say?" he asked, sounding intrigued. "Yes...In fact, I believe we have a spot for her in one of our newer processing centers. We haven't tried it with someone as young as you are, but it's been a success on the operatives we've tried it on. It'll be the perfect place for your stay here."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea," Nerva stated, half-turning to pull Mary farther from Dee Dee's reach. "Where should we take her?"

"Processing for 18-5-1-16-5-18, human division two," he smiled, returning his gaze to the datapad. "Please report back when you have results. I'm rather curious on what it'll yield."

"Of course," he agreed, tugging her along with the former shopkeeper close beside them.

The tension between the two still existed, growing the more they walked. Nerva continued to hold whatever could be considered a smirk on a turian's face as he twisted his grip into her arm. It was almost as if he was doing it on purpose, and not necessarily to hurt her. There was an air about Dee Dee that couldn't be placed, yet those they passed down a darkened metal hallway seemed to notice her enough to refuse eye contact. Her head was held tall, her red lips in a neutral position with her eyes kept forward, and all the while she pinched at Mary's sleeve, keeping her within distance.

Though she was still unsure what this meant for her, or if she would ever be able to distance herself from them, she was even more unsure of the large, metal door they approached. The lights from below the grated floor made it loom in her vision, sending a chill of fear and almost panic down her spine as they signaled to gain entrance.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: First of all, I just want to apologize for not updating sooner. ): I had a lot of things on my plate the last few weeks that needed attending to. But I'm still here and going to finish this! *shakes fist* Also, I'm just letting you all know that there are only a few more chapters and an epilogue left to go, so we're nearing the end! :D Stay tuned!<p> 


	21. To Our Dearest

Chapter Twenty

[To] Our Dearest

The super villains in the Blasto vids didn't hold a _candle_ to where they entered. At first it was just a long, metal hallway, lined with large windows that looked down into smaller rooms. Some of those rooms were empty. Others, unfortunately, had people who were strapped down to large contraptions, monitored by technicians in green and white uniforms. While many appeared unconscious, there were some that had their mouths wide open and jerked their limbs violently, silently screaming behind the protective glass. Mary couldn't seem to pull her eyes away, her feet barely moving on their own without the aid of being forced along.

They finally entered through a metal door with a large red bar painted across it, the room beyond buzzing with activity. It had two floors that were open to one another, a main control area stationed in the center with littler sections of computers surrounding it. More uniformed officers ran about, carrying on in their own worlds and ignoring them as they came into view. The only person that was important enough to notice appeared to be another man in suit, lights flickering in his eyes from analyzing a datapad.

Before Mary had time to completely take in her surroundings, she breathed in lightly with surprise, the pain in her arm suddenly gone. Nerva walked forward, attempting to start a conversation with the apparent leader of the operations and leaving his back turned to her. She almost felt vulnerable, looking around quickly to the sights and sounds that bombarded her. It only took a moment to remember what she had to do, what her friend had asked her to, and began to slide her feet back slowly. She glanced carefully over her shoulder, noticing that the woman beside her was gazing elsewhere and the door behind them was still active with a green signal switch. Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest and beat her to the exit, knowing she couldn't wait any longer to make her escape.

"Don't run," the woman whispered, hastily grabbing her arm as Mary half-turned towards the door. Her eyes met hers with a sympathetic gaze, drawing her to stand in front and placing her hands on her shoulders. She leaned over near her ear, staring off to watch the men before them carefully. "Don't run. They won't hesitate to kill you."

"Isn't that what they're going to do anyway?" she retorted quietly, her back beginning to tremble when Dee Dee remained silent.

The two men turned back a moment later, the turian officer glancing to the woman behind Mary in a self-satisfied manner. The human man, though, stared at the blond haired girl, the side of his mouth pulled to the side slightly in question. His blue eyes pieced a burning hole of curiosity into her skull, Mary feeling it even as she drew her eyes away. Without a word he knelt in front of her, reaching out and grabbing her chin. She wanted to smack him, pull away from him and claw at his face, but she froze. The man's presence, from the icy, firm grip he held to the calculated thoughts running through the back of his mind, made her feel like she was staring into the face of death.

"Sixteen, hm?" he thought aloud. "The crop of fourteens didn't do well, but perhaps there's a threshold."

"Do you want us to take her down to the examination rooms, Mr. Lawson?" Nerva asked.

The man considered it, his finger gliding along the edge of her jaw to her neck. He shrugged when deciding on something, reaching into his coat pocket for a pair of purple, rubbery gloves. Pulling them tightly into place, he took out a small vial and an instrument that couldn't have been longer than three inches. She watched as he punctured the vial's top, drawing up a blue, glowing substance into the tiny syringe.

"No, I don't want to waste time on another possible reject specimen," he stated. Without hesitation his hand suddenly went for her neck, dispensing the liquid into her neck. "The second phase project is too important for that."

Her face suddenly felt hot, a bright, bluish-white light flooding her vision. She could feel her knees grow weak, her head spinning as a loud ringing sound filled her ears and infected in mind. Outside of her thoughts, the three adult stared on at her reaction. Dee Dee held tighter to keep her from falling over, unable to hide the worry building within her. Even Nerva seemed suspicious towards what had been injected, feeling anxious to the possible reprocussions. Over time, the man grinned, nodding with approval and standing.

"Placid acceptance. A very promising start," he commented, waving for an assistant to bring him his datapad once more. "We can move ahead will a full injection and workup then."

"What did you do to her?" Dee Dee question, her voice echoing a calm anger.

"Sparing the technicalities, it's an experiment to see if we can't manufacture moving platforms," he replied, almost uninterested to answer. "We only have stationary wavelengths to reach troops at the moment, so if we can yield trainable, cognoscente towers to send out the Reaper frequency, we'll be able to expand our operations much more effectively."

"So...use human brainwaves as a signal instead of machines?" Nerva surmised, shrugging. "How do you get the nanites to cooperate? Drones are one thing, but this..."

"That's why it's still in the experimental phase—" the man began, sounding irritated, before he was interrupted by a nervous looking worker.

"Sir, we have a situation."

Mary's head was spinning, watching little blue wisps of light dance in her vision and slowly fade from view. She thought she could hear voices, scratchy like being spoken behind a fan. It was soft at first, only a buzz hiding at the base of her skull, with almost a calming affect. The sounds grew increasingly louder, however, as the man began to shout orders to those around, the room erupting in a flurry of activity. He turned back to them, his mouth frowning in a scowl, and pointed to Dee Dee with a heavy hand.

"You. Take her to stasis and get her aboard a shuttle," he said, going to the main control station in the center of the room.

"What's happening?" Dee Dee asked, keeping a wary eye on the turian beside her.

"Reapers have landed just outside the facility," he replied coolly, rubbing his forehead. "Why are they even here? It has to be due to the signal, but...Damn it. I need more time."

Without another word the three headed for the exit, winding through a different set of hallways to their destination. Mary stumbled along in the care of Dee Dee, holding onto her hand tightly. She didn't even realize she was walking next to her until they had reached a more lively area, passing by uniformed agents who were scrambling to collect various things. The world was slowly coming to life around her, but not without battling the smaller voices echoing in her mind. She felt cold, fear striking into her core for no apparently reason other than the panicked faces of those they passed. Mary could have sworn she heard crying, pleading for things she couldn't quite make out.

In her attempts to focus more on reality, she found her heel catching on a large wire snaking across the ground, falling to her knees as her shoe's heel broke. She recognized shouting but was unsure of the words, the ghostly image of the former merchant appearing in her vision. It was almost blurred by the blue light behind her, Mary rubbing her eyes as she was hurriedly pulled to her feet.

"We don't have time for this!" Nerva yelled, reaching to take Mary and set her walking at his own pace. Dee Dee held her closer, however, her eyes stern in defiance.

"She was just infected with prototype Reaper nanites. She's going to have a little trouble walking," she spat, patting the girl's head as she clung to her waist for support.

Mary's eyes widened at the sight she saw behind Dee Dee. Inside a room, the blinding glow fading, she finally saw an asari woman. She was strapped to a table, involuntarily twitching with her mouth half-open. Though Mary didn't see her physically speak, she could have sworn she heard her voice, sad and wondering what was happening to her. What had happened to her children. If her husband, Goddess forbid, would follow them there. Mary saw the tears fall from the sides of the woman's eyes and felt them on her own cheeks, her breathing becoming choppy in an overwhelming sadness. It only subsided when she was suddenly jerked away, her shoes falling away from her feet and feeling the painful sting of Nerva's talons on her arm.

"Then she's going to have to get over it faster," he hissed, his jaw clicking shut.

Dee Dee picked up her heels, both the good and the broken one, and paused, examining their soles. After snapping off the dangling heel and placing it in her shirt, she tossed the rest lightly at him, catching him off guard and scrambling to not touch them too much. She took the opportunity to take Mary back, hurrying her along to distance themselves. While he suspected that her anger was getting the best of her, he maintained the spacing between them to relish the amusement of the moment. What he didn't expect, however, was her abrupt stop after crossing the threshold of a doorway, hastily signaling for it to close.

Mary stared at her in bewilderment as she heard him shout from the other side, seeing his shadow reflect in the small window of the door. Dee Dee worked quickly, opening the control panel and tearing away at the wires, causing the system to malfunction. He wasn't going to get through that way any time soon, at least.

"What are you doing?" Mary inquired quietly, the question slipping from her mind.

Dee Dee huffed with one final pull, a few stands of hair falling away from her neatly kept bun. She stumbled back a little, but, after smoothing out her dress, looking over to her, smiling gently. Her eyes examined the girl's features, looking to be sure she wasn't about to pass out or the wound in her neck was still bleeding. Satisfied, she removed the heel from her blouse and placed it in her hand, beginning to fiddle with her omni-tool.

"Hang on to that. You might need it later," she stated over the banging from the other side of the door. "I left the tracking device for Tertius to find. Once you're off-planet, the signal should become stronger."

"Off-planet? I don't..." she drifted, watching Dee Dee remove the communication device from her wrist and readjusting it for her.

"Take my omni-tool," she said quickly, handing it to her. "This is the map of the facility, this is for communication, and this is to activate medi-gel. Understand?"

"Why are you helping me?" she asked bluntly.

She hesitated, Mary noticing the edges of the woman's lips start to quiver. Placing Mary's chin in the crook of her thumb and index finger, she continued, "Because after all my teasing to try and push him away, he still cared enough to come back. I'm just repaying the favor."

Mary shook her head, her eyes beginning to sting, "But Tertius...he—"

"Hey," she spoke over her, making her gaze return to her own. "Did you see him die?"

"No, but—"

"Then he's still alive. He cared about you too much to let go. You're very, very lucky to have that," she reassured, smoothing back Mary's hair. After a moment, Dee Dee unclasped the chain of her necklace and placed it around Mary's neck, letting the small, brass medallion fall over her blue dress. "Get to the shuttles on the other side of the base. Try to stay hidden, but if anyone stops you, say you're under orders from Henry Lawson to get off Horizon. They should believe you."

"And if they don't?"

Dee Dee grinned, laughing halfheartedly. She apparently hadn't thought that far herself. Reaching around, she pulled out a pistol that was strapped to the back of her thigh, placing it into the girl's hand.

"Just stay safe and tell him I said hi when you see him," she answered, patting her on the back. "Now get moving! This place will be crawling with Reapers soon."

With her feet bare and a glow still hovering in her vision, Mary backed away slowly before heading off down the hall, hugging close to the walls. The further she moved away, the more Dee Dee's smile faded, turning back to the window in the door when Mary had finally disappeared from view. She met the glare of the turian beyond it, crossing her arms and plastering a smug grin on her mouth.

"Oh, come now, you should have been expecting this," she chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't think you had it in you," he scoffed, typing various codes into his omni-tool to open the door, possibly even sending out a message to the other Cerberus members. By the way his mandibles flicked out every so often, she could tell it was to no avail. "This will cost you, you know."

"I have nothing more to give," she replied, reaching up her hand and tapping her fingers upon the safety glass. "This company, these people, even you, took everything I had."

"Don't be so dramatic," he said, going to the control panel on the wall to see if it would react. "I knew you were weak emotionally but to be such a sap? Fake boyfriend or not he must have really gone to your head. Tell me, does that knife of knowledge still hurt, or is his death simply a consequence of war?"

Her grin faded, bringing her face close to the window. Small circles of vaporous breath smudged against the glass, Dee Dee looking on at Nerva's frustration. Not even his thwarted attempts to exit the research portion of the facility could satisfy her anger, subconsciously scratching her nails into the cold metal.

"I'm not who you take me for, Nerva," she stated, pressing her lips together. There was a plan in the back of her eyes that he would never see, hollow and void of feeling. "Do you want to know the real reason I left Rio?"

Nerva laughed, "Centurions are going to be on your ass in two minutes and you want to go discussing your back story? _Please_, don't let me stop you!"

"I knew a man once who was a lot like you," she began, ignoring his sarcasm. "He was from Columbia and, oh, how my sister loved him. He was strong and handsome and it didn't hurt that he could speak Portuguese. Of course, the reason why he could speak our tongue was because, as we soon found out, he was a drug dealer. Small time, worked as a subsidiary for a larger cartel, but he had his fingers in places where he could hold on to enough power. Funny that some of his money was funneled back into Cerberus operations. That's how I found out about this company, anyway."

Nerva lifted his gaze, observing as the lights began to flicker around them. There were loud bangs erupting from a distance through the walls, most likely cause by the escalating violence between Cerberus and the Reapers at large. His back tightened, nervous at the situation and wondering if he should try to find another escape route soon. Dee Dee, though, was not phased, tilting her head.

"My sister would never admit it, but he was abusive," she continued. "Only subtly at first, getting angry over the littlest of things. He would always calm those around him back into a false sense of security, making them believe he was a gentleman. That image went on for so long, but one day he snapped."

She could see him gasp as they both heard a piercing cry, rattling the pipes in the ceiling and Dee Dee feeling the vibration in the door. Nerva shook his head, pacing up the door's window.

"Dee Dee, open this door," he demanded lowly, glaring at her.

"That man tried to hurt my sister," she admitted, her eyes flicking up from the floor to him. "So I killed him."

"Dee Dee, open this door!" he shouted, banging his hand against the glass.

"It was an accident, really," she said quietly, laughing lightly to herself, "but with nothing to defend her or myself with I stabbed him in the throat with my medallion. It was just enough to nick an artery."

The screech echoed again, louder and more threatening. It was clear which direction it was heading, Nerva turning around to face what was coming down the narrow hall.

"_Dee Dee_!" he yelled in a panic, taking his gun from his belt.

The creature that they had heard appeared from a smeared portal of sorts, hovering lightly in the air with its long, gangly arms at its sides. The lights of its body were dimmed, but became violently bright when it felt a stream of heat sinks hit its body, its mouth opening in another scream. Dee Dee would give Nerva credit for at least trying, running through one clip and then another almost seamlessly before his gun finally gave out on him, throwing it at the creature. In one last, pitiful attempt he looked back at her, horror striking his features as she smiled sweetly.

"You took my light away from me," she said unhurriedly, "and now I'm going to take yours."

She winced as a spray of blue blood covered the glass, small flecks of flesh lifting into the air as ash and burning in an orange light. Gazing through the thinning portions on the window, she looked at the asari-based abomination as it stared at its prey, seeming almost pleased with its work. Eventually it turned, floating back the way it came. Dee Dee, without pride or pleasure in what had just occurred, dusted her hands with a sense they would never come clean. It wasn't a new sensation, but she didn't like it all the same. Still, her insides settled in fulfillment. Sending the girl off on her own was the safer of the two options; they would have known what she had done soon enough and probably have her on an alert list. That is, if Cerberus managed to hold back the Reaper forces. Teritus would just have to the do the rest.

She held her arms, a chill falling down her spine as she turned away. The hall she was in was silent then, devoid of the bustle that once flooded it. She wondered if that's what many planets—many homes—felt like, and had a hard time keeping the emptiness from welling in her eyes. Dee Dee had gotten used to the absence of people, of companionship and trust. It was then she mused at the famous line, 'It is better to have loved and lost', and decided that whoever wrote those words was an idiot. Tertius would probably think so, too. With that in mind she smiled genuinely, letting the darkness drape around her like a veil of mourning and walking off to no where in particular.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I am <em>so sorry<em> for being so behind on these. D: School is starting in a month and, since it's my senior year of college, I've had a CRAP TON of stuff I've had to worry about, (so fanfics have kind of been on the back burner a little bit). The last chapter and epilogue will be posted in two weeks, much like the last few chapters have been, so thank you so much to those who have stuck it out to read this, (and those who have recently picked it up!)


	22. Before You Go

Chapter Twenty-One

Before You [Go]

Any other moment, she wasn't sure if she would have made it passed the doors into the lobby area, which was necessary to get to the nearest shuttle port. Any other moment, she knew she wouldn't have been able to face the noises of screams and gunshots, stumbling through the commotion of panicking refugees and Cerberus commandos alike as they were shot, stabbed, thrown away both whole and in pieces, and overall being decimated by Reaper creatures of all shapes and sizes. At that particular moment, though, the only thing she could think of was her friend's words. He had said to get away, and that's exactly what she was going to do.

The main shuttle port was overrun, many of the vehicles that had once been there either gone already or being blown out of the sky by an awful sounding horn that reverberated in her head. It was so intense at times that she stumbled into a wall, holding her head against the shrill screaming she could have sworn was coming from behind her ears. If it hadn't been for a moment of peace, the waves of monsters finding their abilities more useful on a group of soldiers the next hall over, she wouldn't have paused to notice the bodies littering the way in front of her. She stopped immediately, blinking furiously to gather her surroundings. It seemed like the attacks just came with a sudden brute force and then sickening quieted, as if the place didn't stand a chance to begin with. Her blood felt like it froze, her tense hands dropping to her sides.

Within a few heartbeats she found her panting breath gathering back up into her chest with a gasp, flinching away as something touched her wrist. The little girl that stared up at her looked just as startled by her reaction, tears soaking her blue cheeks. Mary hesitated to react, rubbing the residual blue light in her eyes to see her more clearly. She was the asari child from the entrance shuttle, her once beautiful dress covered in darkened marks of dried blood.

"We can't find mother," she sobbed, her small hands clasped against her chest and bracing as if the older human would lash out. The girl relaxed, however, when Mary smiled quickly, kneeling down.

"Uh...Okay, where did you last see her?" Mary asked hurriedly, unsure what else to say.

"The lobby," the girl pointed from where they came. "Some men took her away and then they were taking us to this place to wait with the others. Then the other men with us, they...They were eatted, so we ran. I saw you and remembered you, so we followed you."

Mary looked around, noticing the other, older sister just down the corridor. She had her back against a wall, her knees bent against her chest while she glanced at both her sides, terrified as to what could come from either side. Gazing back to the girl in front of her, pleading for an answer from her elder, Mary patted her on the head, taking a deep breath. The truth was, she had no idea what to do, or where to go, or how she was going to take care of two girls when she couldn't even figure out what to do with herself. She hated to admit it but, in the face of death, she didn't know anything. She was just a _kid_. Still, those even younger than her needed someone to protect them, perhaps just as much as her subconscious mind needed something to keep her going. Her sister wouldn't have forgiven her to just give up and leave those girls to die. Neither would Tertius.

She scooped the girl up into her arms, carrying her on her hip. "Alright, we're...We're going to go hide for a bit and then we'll try finding your mom, okay?"

She agreed with a nod. Mary quickly walked over to the older girl and extended her elbow, pointing the gun in her hand at the floor. The asari, who must have been nine or ten, stared up at her, puzzled by the stranger's willingness to help them despite the ground being covered in bodies. She slowly accepted it, though, using the help to stand.

Before the newly formed group could figure out which way to head, Mary stuttered her steps at the sound of a loud screech echoing in the distance. The silhouette of a tall, hovering creature formed on the far wall, followed by two others that made the littlest girl curl her face into Mary's shoulder. Pushing the oldest behind her, she stepped back slowly, only to be halted by the sound of approaching scratches. Mary's heart felt like it was about the beat out of her chest, knowing that each exit was soon to be filled with Reapers wanting nothing more than to tear them apart.

A thought came to her, however, as she planted her back to the wall. Her bare foot came against something colder than the floor, just beside the sitting body of a dead man. She set the youngest down beside her sister, pushing the corpse aside to reveal a ventilation duct, just wide enough for them to squeeze into. Furiously trying to pull it from the wall, she realized that it was screwed in tightly, standing straight and holding out an arm to have them stand back.

"At least there's no wires this time," she muttered, shakily firing a few shots until the grate was lose enough to pull.

The sound only aggravated the Reapers that were nearby, their angered cries growing louder with each passing moment. She set the eldest to enter first, followed by her sister and herself, pulling the grate back into the wall to make it stick. If anything it would buy them time to move down the vent before the creatures realized they had entered. She had no idea where it lead or if it was even safe, but it was better than attacking the approaching horde with nothing except a measly pistol and a resolve to live.

—

Getting off the Citadel was in interesting endeavor, to say the least. While Council approval was necessary to take an investigation off the station, no one could seem to get a hold of them, busy with one matter or another. Without the go ahead, protocol stated that the case be handed over to the Special Response units, as they would already have the adequate supplies to take on a mission in the Terminus System. After running around trying to get clearance, (looking like, as Mayfield said, 'chickens with their heads cut off'), they were surprised when Commander Marinus, of all people, said they should just go ahead. He wasn't about to hand it over to another squad, especially when they wouldn't know anything about the situation and would probably manage to screw it up somehow. If the Council was so busy, then they wouldn't even notice them gone; he could just file the paperwork afterward. To see him going against command was shocking enough to drive them into unquestioning silence. Except for Lalita, that is, who would continue to laugh quietly every so often about the Special Response's incompetence, like there was an inside joke between the lieutenant and the commander's disgruntled nature towards the unit.

They managed to secure a shuttle that would safely pass through the Mass Relay and headed for Horizon, deciding that it would be a simple in and out arrest. While they debated on what to do if there were more Cerberus agents there, particularly any formidable troopers, it was clear that they would do as much as they could; no matter how much training they had, only two had ever been soldiers. Those two decided that, despite wanting to end the case on a good note, one suspect wasn't enough to get killed over, and the Citadel would certainly need more officers when they returned.

Tertius had his own goal in mind. Even if he had agreed that the main reason for going was to take Nerva into custody, he wasn't going to leave Horizon until he found where Mary was. He would secure the arrest until the end, but if they hadn't found her by that time, he had made up his mind that he would stay behind until he knew what happened to her. Deep in the pit of his stomach he feared the worse, but holding onto the tracking device in his pocket somehow put his mind at ease. Perhaps it was believing that Dee Dee would take care of them both, or that, if Mary was tough enough to stay strong despite all she had been through, she would be able to handle being in the hands of Cerberus. He could only hope that, whatever the case, they were safe when he saw them again.

Approaching the planet, Dairu turned on the radio to contact the landing port. Instead, they were bombarded with a choppy signal of a woman's voice.

"This is Oriana Lawson. Stay away from Sanctuary. It's not what it seems. Please, you must listen to me. They're using—"

The cabin froze, unsure what to make of the static message. It sounded almost panicked towards the end, desperate to send out what needed to be heard about the facility. Though the team's eyes fell on Marinus, wondering if he might change the plan in light of the new information, his silence gave them their answer. Dairu continued to hail anyone over the short wave communication system even as they descended into the atmosphere, landing without being able to receive clearance.

While Sanctuary seemed peaceful from above, opening the side hatch gave much less positive impression. The open-air port was quiet, free from anything animate aside from a few lose, drifting papers scattered across the ground. For a place that was suppose to be a bustling refugee center, it sounded eerily deserted.

"Anybody else a little creeped out by this?" Mayfield asked to no one in particular, hopping out and strapping a large medical pack to his back.

"Quite," Dairu nodded, itching for the pistol on his belt.

"This is a large facility," Marinus status, sending them a glance to keep their weapons holstered until ordered. "It's possible processing is on the other side. These could just be administration buildings."

As they stepped up to the blacked-out, sliding glass doors, expecting to see a bored desk worker or something official, the commander's theory fell apart. If it had been an administrative area, it wasn't that way any longer. Papers were thrown all over the place, various pieces of furniture either turned over or broken. There were scorch marks of heat sinks and large fire on the floors and walls, ash fluttering in the air with the scent of something awful.

Guns were drawn before Marinus could say otherwise.

"What happened here?" Asira breathed, her eyes darting about the large room. "Cerberus, perhaps?"

"Seems like their technique, but...Something's off about this," Mayfield drifted in thought, inching forward with the rest of the group.

"Stay alert and see if you can find any information about this place," Marinus said.

They fanned out to search, securing the area to be sure it wasn't an ambush. The halls that they could see down didn't show signs of activity, nor did they find anyone hiding. The place was deserted, and had been for a least a few hours, as evident by a full, cold coffee mug still sitting on a desk.

"If this was a Cerberus attack," Lalita began in a low tone, speaking to the elder turian examining a flicking computer screen next to her, "then where are the bodies? This place was suppose to be packed with people. With the amount of damage here you'd think there would at least be a blood trail of some kind."

"My thoughts exactly," he replied, taking in a heavy breath. "We need to find this guy and get—"

A loud bang made the floor tremble, sending the coffee onto its side and rolling off its surface. The officers turned abruptly, aiming their armaments to where they had just come from and gazing on in horror. Something massive, mangled in appearance with one large, claw-like arm and spikes jutting into the sky from its back, was tearing into the shuttle. It was almost as if it were looking for them, or at least diligently pulling apart the engines, somehow knowing that was something useful. Whatever the case, regardless of whether the windows were tinted, they knew what they saw and knew the implications for the entire facility.

"That...is...a..." Mayfield whispered slowly, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Though they could barely hear him, it seemed as if the creature could, its lumbering mass turning its upper body towards them. Marinus waved ever so slightly for them to retreat, glancing around quickly to the hallway towards the back. The beast snorted as it approached its own reflection, bobbing its head back and forth curiously. Backing away from it was the longest minute they had ever faced; unfortunately, it did not last long. A tiny speck of debris crunched under one of their feet, the air seemingly being sucked out of the room before the glass doors exploded out from a full on charge. The monster roared and pounded its arms into the ground, watching the beings much smaller than it bolt into a complete sprint for the hallway. While it attempted to chase them, catching up within a matter of seconds, the space between had been too much, finding itself too massive to cross the hall's threshold. It slammed its shoulder into the wall, trying to fit through, but the group was already gone.

"Why would Reapers be here?" Asira questioned as they ran, more for herself than anyone.

"Who cares? To hell with this place!" Mayfield shouted behind her, hearing a mumble of agreement from Lalita as he squinting in the dim light.

When the monster's roars had dimmed, they congregated in the darkened space, taking a moment to catch their breath and let their hearts catch up. Small clanks and bangs reverberated off the walls, disorientating their sense of direction and what was around them. Dairu looked for a light in his armor, trying to illuminate the situation more clearly. Before they could entirely be sure they were safe, Mayfield turned to look at Asira, wondering how she was doing. Her purple features were paler than usual, but aside from her wide eyes and shaking hands she seemed fine.

That is, until he noticed something moving behind her.

On instinct he reached out, watching her confused expression pass by as he pushed her out of the way. He lifted his weapon steadily, but his sudden actions were enough to condemn him. Within a moment a dark hand was around his forearm, covered in a mixture of blue and red liquid that shimmered outside of the asari's shadow. If it had not been for the fact that this creature was soaked in it, they would have seen the lights glimmering off its body, becoming more apparent the longer it hovered in the air.

Mayfield didn't make a sound for a few seconds until it dug its claws quickly into his arm, ripping through flesh and muscle with ease. It continued its efforts even after they began to fire, distracted by their attempts and twisting its arm to try and shield itself. It would crack his bone and mangle him before it ever considered backing away, taking his arm with it.

His shouts were drowned out by the sound of gunfire, his expression falling away from fear and forming into anger from his pain. He sat down against the wall, finding that barely a tendon remained from his elbow down. The creature was dead and writhing on the floor within a minute, Lalita grabbing Mayfield's dropped pistol and shooting its face to make it finally become still.

It seemed he couldn't think quite straight when Asira hastily sat at his side, dark circles forming under his eyes. Tertius had to grab the medical supplies from off his back, finding a medi-gel package as the asari maiden attempted to keep him focused, keep him awake long enough to receive treatment.

"Ed...Ed?" she tried to say, holding his head in her hands.

He smiled weakly, wincing slightly when his arm was cauterized. There was something he wanted to say but didn't have the strength, finding the words twisted on his tongue and his eyes rolled into his head. Asira's lips pulled at their sides, twitching in increasing sadness.

"Asira," Marinus tried to get her attention, his voice commanding. When she didn't break her gaze, watching as Mayfield slowly fell unconscious, he raised his tone. "Asira!"

She jumped at the sound, slipping her fingers away. Standing silently, her shoulders hunched slightly, she turned to face her commanding officer. Her glazed eyes were growing colder the more he spoke.

"Put a biotic barrier around us. We need to find a more secure location," he began, gesturing down the hall. She hesitated, forcing him to step up to her with his head ducking into her eye line. "That was an order."

Tertius grabbed Mayfield's good arm, placing it over his shoulder and, with Lalita's help on his other side, carrying the human until they were someplace safer to fully check his vitals. There was a striking quietness that fell into the hall as they walked, Asira flaring her biotics in a sparking blue glow around them. Tertius could feel the anger beginning to well in her, being hit with static every so often that emitted from her tense hands. It was almost enough to deflect the subtle noises scratching through the pipes and vents.

Eventually they made it into a well lit area, just as damaged, or worse, than the place they had entered. There were still fires burning from destroyed electronics, glass covering the floor from broken windows in the ceiling. They set Mayfield down against the metal paneling of a staircase, Lalita getting to work through her omni-tool to make sure he was stable. Teritus turned just in time to watch as Asira shot Marinus a seemingly undeserved spiteful glance, the elder turian choosing to ignore it and letting the woman see the injured man once more. Marinus glanced to him, though, nodding his head for him to approach.

"Scout the area for any maps," he said quietly, rubbing the red markings on his forehead. "See if you can't find where the nearest shuttle port is. Cerberus was one thing, but this..."

"And Nerva?" he asked.

The commander shook his head with a dismissive wave, walking away. "We're done here."

Tertius stood still for a time, his heart sinking to his feet. He didn't have much time one way or another. Mayfield would need more complete medical attention soon, but that was if they ever managed to make it off the planet. The only hope he had to find Mary rested in the armor compartment on his hip, facing away from the group with anticipation. His pace was hurried as he took out the tracking device, turning it on and waiting to see if a signal would pick up. The instrument was almost unresponsive at first, fizzing with garbled feedback until it became a steady flat screen.

He caught his breath when it rang out with a result.

The green dot flashed in his vision, signaling that the end of the search was nearby. With his gun at the ready he followed it down a hall, the majority of the lights burned out or broken above him. The unsettling sounds of the previous corridor had faded, leaving him to the sound of his own footsteps.

Bracing for what might come from the shadows, the green dot finally expanded when he reached a door, noticing that the lock was not active. Pressing the command for it to open, he stepped into the room slowly, surprised to find it was a restroom. It appeared as if no one had used it in some time, a single row of dimmed, yellow fixtures lighting glowing above the sinks along the far wall. His eyes were immediately drawn to the flashing green light in the far corner, squinting to see if anyone was there. He made it about half way to the center of the room before realizing something was amiss, a small point of pressure suddenly being applied to the middle of his back.

"Don't move or I'll put one right through your heart."

Even with the threat, he couldn't help but begin to chuckle. His shoulders shook in relief, raising his hands slowly above his head.

"Spirits, can't believe I fell for that one. Blasto four, right? The distraction technique with the, uh, drell—"

"Tertius?" Mary's voice squeaked, her hand trembling as she lowered the pistol to her side.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Okay. Remember how I said this would be the last chapter? Yeah. Kind of had to postpone that due to unforeseen<em> headachesinus infection/PAIN for an f'ing month_. I'm not even exaggerating. It's just now, today, _the_ _Saturday I was suppose to post_, getting better. HOWEVER, I wanted to post something this week, so last chapter and epilogue _will be next week_. Even if I have to stay up a few nights with an icepack plastered to one of my eyes. Again, sorry everyone for the delays, and thanks to those who have stuck around through all this, (and those who even took the time to start reading it!) Much love to you all.


	23. The End

Author's Note: Just an FYI, this chapter may be a little bit on the T+ side for violence. Personally, I don't find it really that graphic, but I figured I would give a warning just in case. :) Also, please keep reading after this segment; there's an epilogue to follow!

Chapter Twenty-Two

[The End]

She let him turn around before completely dispelling her belief, barely giving him a chance to firm his footing before leaping at him in a hug. Somehow he knew it was coming, catching her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and let her feet dangle slightly above the floor. She felt strangely warm in his hands, and as he glanced over her shoulder, he knew why. There, in the shadowy corner he did not bother to glance at previously, were two smaller figures huddling together in confusion and fear.

"I thought you were dead," she confessed, rubbing her eyelids against his collar.

"I told you I'd find you," he replied, setting her down gently. "Are you alright?"

She paused, unsure what to say. The truth was that no, she was not alright. Several hours had been spent trying to console two little girls from crying over their mother who was probably dead, knowing that if they made too much noise someone, or something, would come looking. She was also still dizzy from whatever Cerberus had stabbed into her. To top it off, she wasn't entirely sure what to say about the merchant woman. Did he really need to hear that his friend, if that's what she was, had been working for the enemy all that time?

Undoing the chain from around her neck, she placed the brass medallion in his palm, her hands grasping his fingers. He stared at it for a time, not sure what to say or think about it. His mandibles lowered, enveloping both the emblem and her hand in his.

"She...She said to tell you that she said hi," Mary forced herself to say. "And...Tertius, she—"

"Helped you escape," he filled in for her, using his thumb to wipe away the tear running along the bridge of her nose. There was a reason why Dee Dee wasn't around, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, at least not at that moment; it was clear that she had done enough. "Whatever happened...That's all that matters, right?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah."

He took in a deep breath, kneeling and pointing to the girls in the corner. "So who're your friends?"

Mary turned on her toes, waving a hand for the children to approach. The littlest seemed a bit more outgoing than the other, walking up quickly with wide-eyes filled with curiosity. She smiled when he knelt to become eye-level, reaching out and pointing at the markings on his face.

"You look like father!" she proclaimed. "Except father's paintings are white. And he's taller."

His mandibles flicked out slightly, hearing Mary start to giggle at his side. While he wanted to ask if she had put her up to saying that, finding it almost too convenient for the girl to point out, he placed the thought aside. He noticed her blood-stained garment even in the dull light, her sister seeming far more aware and scared of the situation they were in by the way she stood off the side against the wall.

"That's...very observant of you," he commended, standing up subconsciously straighter than he had been. "What's your name?"

"Niri," she replied, "and that's my sister, Tavia."

"Nice to meet you both," he said.

He paused for a moment, glancing from the eldest and then to Mary with an unspoken question. She seemed to understand what he was asking, looking away and shaking her head as she grabbed Niri's hand. There was also a reason why the girls were with Mary and not with someone they knew. It was something else the oldest sister held heavy on her shoulders, and Tertius attempted to be as conscious of it as possible in his words when walking over to her.

"Tavia," he began softly, watching her flinch at her name. It was almost as if he had drawn her back out of her own mind, gazing up at him finally. "We'll get you out of here, alright? Just come with us."

She was staring at him blankly, her eyes beginning to well with feelings she hadn't realized were waiting to surface. "You do look like father. I wish he were here. Then mother...mother..."

Covering her face with one hand, she held out the other and clung to his sleeve. The etiquette that had been instilled since birth from her asari relatives was certainly prominent, but not even proper cultural behavior could keep a child from missing her family. Without another word he took her hand in his talons, the girl trying to compose herself as she held onto him tightly.

Making their way back out into the hall, they could hear that emotions were running high elsewhere. The dim sounds of shouting had each of them concerned for various reasons, Mary picking up the littlest into her arms just in case they would be needing a quick escape. When they had arrived at the entrance to the large atrium, they stood still for a time, unsure what to make of the shouting match occurring between the younger asari maiden and elder turian officer.

"Because that's all that matters to you! That's _all_ that ever mattered to you!" Asira yelled, holding her hands out for emphasis. She was louder than any one of them had ever heard before. "He's just some medic! A commodity that could be thrown away at any time!"

"We have to move him, even if it is a risk!" Marinus replied, his tone livid. "He knew what he was getting into the moment he enlisted into the security program, Citadel or otherwise!"

"_Enlisted_? Goddess, this isn't the damn military! This isn't Shanxi!"

The air suddenly grew colder, Marinus striking her a gaze that would have killed if it had the potential. It was a warning of sorts not to delve any further into the subject; even Lalita had paused from her work stabilizing Mayfield with those words. Anger was twitching on the side of her mouth, only staying put out of respect for the turian's pride to handle things himself. It faded, though, when she looked up, finally noticing them standing off to the side.

"Yes, we knew all about that," she continued, crossing her arms smugly. "About those sieges on human colonies, killing hundreds of civilians—"

"We didn't know they were civilians," he seethed, his voice quiet.

"Bullshit! You knew what they were, and that's _all_ they were to you—_Human_."

"That was before..." he drifted loudly, catching himself. "We had our orders!"

"That still doesn't change they fact that you hated them! You hate them still! That's why you've always treated Mayfield badly, why you don't care whether he lives or dies! You hate him because he's a _human_!"

"I hate humans because they killed my wife!" he answered, shouting closely to her face. She stumbled slightly in surprise, her brow lowering in confusion. He appeared almost defeated when he continued, running his talons along the markings on his forehead. "Mercs...killed her in an ambush. We had to leave behind our dead if we wanted to live ourselves, but when we came back...They mutilated the bodies. Peeled off their plates and filleted them like...like _fish_. Wasn't much left to be said other than a few bones and ashes."

He gazed at her sternly, seeing that her fury had turned into solemn guilt. "I hate that every time I see one of them, I see the faces of the men who left me without a wife, three boys without a mother. So yes, I hate _what_ he is, but that doesn't mean he deserved this. Mayfield is a good man and a good officer. If my concern for wanting to get all of us out alive in the quickest way possible seems like uncaring to you, then perhaps you should brush up on your psychology classes. Anything else you care to discuss?"

She shook her head, diverting her eyes to the floor. "No, sir."

"Good," he stated, releasing a heavy sigh before placing a hand on her shoulder. "Keep it together, alright? Make it your job to see to it he gets out of here."

He turned to the other two squad members that sat next to the stairway, realizing that they were looking past him and over to the far entryway. When he gazed over there himself, his mandibles flickered in agitation, wondering how long they had been standing there. The expression on the human girl's face, one of unnecessary empathy, told him enough.

"Sir," Tertius cleared his throat, trying to keep away any more awkward tension.

Marinus hesitated, figuring the added weight of three more people in his head. Having an injured man was plenty to slow them down, but adding children into the equation was not something he was prepared for. Still, he somehow managed to let it go.

"Did you find a map?" he questioned, tiredly rubbing the base of his hands under his eyes.

"Well, uh—" Tertius began, only to be cut short when the smaller asari child was placed in his arms.

"I do! I have a map!" Mary spoke up, making sure Tertius was alright before hurriedly stepping up to the commander.

She fussed with the omni-tool on her wrist, trying to remember how to work it until a virtual image of the facility lit up. It wasn't until she stood a foot from him did she remember his previous presence, growing nervous by his silence as he stared down at her, seeming surprised. Her worry must have been covering her features, since Mary noticed that his demeanor changed as he knelt beside her.

"Where did you get this?" he inquired, his tone gentler than she remembered it.

"S-someone gave it to me," she attempted to stay calm, but failed in seeing his hardened stare.

She found herself cringing when he reached out and placed her chin in his hand, Marinus pausing to let her relax before turning her head side to side. Despite her hair being down, he could still see a darkened bruise forming on the side of her neck, her collar stained from where blood had dripped down. They stared at each other for a time, almost as if the commander were thinking of what to do with her and Mary pleading for him not to revert back into the turian she had met at C-Sec. The message got across as Marinus let go, grabbing her wrist and adjusting the device to show where they wanted to go.

"Here," he stated, standing and pointing out to the left. "The nearest shuttle port is only a few halls over. Looks like there should be some emergency vehicles there as well."

"Any foreseeable issues with getting in?" Lalita asked, packing up the medical supplies as fast as she could.

"Doesn't look like it. There's a raised causeway that's hopefully still intact, but—"

His remaining words were drowned out by the loud, terrifying sound of a low-pitched horn, shaking the floors and walls. What glass remained in the ceiling shattered, sounding like pin drops within the noise. When it had passed, the area became eerily silent, all except for the whimpering of the two asari children. While the others had looked around, trying to place where it had come from, Marinus kept his gaze fixed on the blond haired girl who pressed her hands onto the side of her face. Her eyes were shut in pain, if only momentarily, but she didn't cover her ears as if it was the sound that hurt her. As he suspected, something else was going on in her head. He was the first person she looked at when hazily opening her eyes again, that same pleading expression glazed over them.

"Asira, take point," he ordered after a time. "Use your field to help shield us from any more debris. Dairu, help carry Mayfield with Lalita. Tertius, keep the little ones with you. Carry them if they start to fall behind."

Tertius hesitated as the group prepared to leave, concern hitting him deeply. In a simple way, the plan made sense, but he couldn't help feeling there was an underlying motive. With that in mind, he approached him warily.

"Sir, are you sure this is the correct way to go about this?" he asked quietly, trying not to alarm the others by questioning the superior officer's commands. "I mean, I've been trained in armed combat."

"You have a free hand, don't you?" he answered coolly. "It's going to take two people to carry Mayfield efficiently and Asira is the only person here who has biotics."

"I have biotics!" Niri proclaimed, raising her hand proudly.

"The only one with big enough biotics," Marinus chuckled lightly. "If we get caught in a hostile area, these girls won't be able to outrun a Reaper by themselves, and she won't be able to carry them. Besides, I'm assuming she can shoot just fine with that pistol she has."

Mary glanced down at her right hand, seeing that, after holding onto it so tightly, she had forgotten it was there. She nodded reassuringly to Tertius, knowing that he could see through her false confidence when he paused. He worriedly nodded in acknowledgment, however, beginning to follow those who had already begun to make their way. Marinus looked down at her again, motioning his head for her to carry on before him.

Crossing through a few more rooms that were just as destroyed as the last, they eventually made it to the shuttle port lobby. The doors that separated them from the outside were shattered, the tinted glass no longer hiding the light of the dying day. Clouds were rolling in to create a haze around the area, finding it hard to make out from a distance if the docking bays held any ships.

"Should we go out there?" Dairu asked in a whisper, stopping to adjust Mayfield's arm more securely around his shoulder.

"We don't have much of a choice," Lalita replied, glancing behind them to make sure the others were following.

The asari girls appeared as nervous as ever, but their eyes lit up in seeing the exit. Tertius, though he probably itched to have his weapon at the ready, was virtually smothered by them; the youngest in one of his arms clung to his collar while the eldest held his other arm completely in her grasp up to his elbow. Lalita had a hard time not to snicker at the sight. What kept her composed, though, was seeing how far back the commander and the human girl had become, Mary holding her head and squinting one eye. Lalita paused to have Marinus meet her gaze, the turian waving a hand to have them keep going.

They crossed over into the open terrain as quietly and hurriedly as possible. The wide, concrete bridge seemed stable, although the scorch marks and slight cracks from battle were a bit unsettling. Then again, nothing about that place was very reassuring. Finding themselves half way across, they could hear the sounds of gunfire echoing in the distance, knowing that a battle was still waging somewhere. It made the billowing horn of a Reaper all the more understandable, though hearing it again was not something anyone would have wanted.

The sound was much louder than before, throwing them off their footing and shaking their vision. Gazing back they could see the towering image lumbering through the complex, though luckily it was turned away. They quickened their pace for the other side, the Reaper growing relentless in its calls as the ground continued to shake below them.

Before he had reached the end, Tertius half turned to find that Mary had fallen back significantly, screaming in pain under the terrifying sound filling the air with one knee on the ground. Marinus was close by when she fell, almost as if he had gone back to get her, grabbing her upper arm and hoisting her to her feet.

The little girls had the same idea he did, Tertius having to grab the elder sister's hand to keep her from running to them. The floor was cracking beneath their feet with every reverberation, knowing that he should get them across first. He couldn't help his hesitation, though, especially when it was clear that Mary couldn't walk on her own.

Marinus could see what was happening, despite the younger turian's unwillingness to realize it. He shouted during the brief instances of interruption for him to keep moving, the floor beneath them continuing to crack. Tertius did what he was ordered, Lalita seeming to know of his intentions as she took the girls from him. Before he could even turn back, the horn sounded one last time and the ground shook violently, the large, mechanical being in the distance lifting off into the atmosphere. Its departure became the final stress on the bridge, cracking in two and becoming a steep angle that would have Marinus and Mary disappear into the rising dust.

Mary's head swam for a time as the lights in her vision died down, the ringing in her ears muffling the shouts from above. She tried to regain focus by sitting upright, finding the gun was still in her possession and the sleeves of her dress torn, her right elbow beginning to bleed. While pain was slowing making its way through her body, it was stopped cold in her back as the debris and particulates settled, seeing what was next to her.

She scrambled to Marinus's side, assessing how badly he had fallen. Even if he had been wearing high grade armor, it was no match for twisted metal bars that had once been a support structure for the bridge. There were a few smaller pieces that had embedded in his arms, but what kept him pinned down was the large, rusted structure that pierced through his back and scrapped against his face on the other side. She was surprised he was still awake, let alone pulling at it to see if it would come free. Mary reached out to try and help him, but he pushed away her hand.

"Lucaren! Answer me, damn it!" Lalita's voice echoed from above, cracking as if on the verge of tears. While they could finally hear each other, Marnius and Mary had fallen and rolled underneath the remaining concrete, the two groups unable to see one another.

Marinus let out a frustrated sigh, halting his attempts to free himself. "I heard you the first time!"

"Then you should have said something!" she shouted.

"I'm a little busy at the moment!" he replied, looking at his wrist to find his omni-tool was broken into pieces. "Go find a shuttle! Either we'll meet you up there or find one that can pick us up in this...aqueduct? Pretty sure that's what this space is."

"But it's dried up," Mary said quietly, examining the tall walls with smaller, darker openings leading under the facility.

"Maybe it's for emergency purposes, I don't know," he answered, gritting his teeth before leaning his head back against the cement slab he resided on. "There should be a latter to the port on either side of the bends. Go find them and get out of here."

She stared at him, her brow lowered and confused. "No, you're hurt—"

"This silence isn't going to last," he spoke over her, struggling to catch his breath. Blood was starting to run past his arm and drip off the side of the rock. "And we don't have enough ammo if a horde of them decide to show up."

With her lips pressed firmly together, she rubbed her eyes, trying to think of what to do. Somewhere deep down she knew he was right, yet she wasn't about to admit defeat. They had all come too far for that, and she was still far too stubborn from the last time they had met.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" she mumbled angrily, fussing with the tool on her wrist and trying to get it working again. "You knew...something was wrong with me. Why'd you do it?"

He blinked slowly, knowing she wasn't about to leave any time soon and readjusting his gaze to the sky. "Honestly? If you had been indoctrinated, then I would have to be the one to shoot you."

She stopped, looking up in surprise. His mandibles flicked out slightly with a weak laugh, feeling her questioning eyes on him.

"Tertius wouldn't be able to do it. He has too much of a heart for these things," he clarified.

"I'm not indoctrinated or whatever that brainwashing stuff is. I'm just...a little unwell right now," she frowned, sliding over on her knees and searching through his armor compartments.

He tried to push her away again, shaking his head, "What are you doing?"

"Looking for medi-gel," she said, pushing him back in retaliation. "And even if I was, you could have just left me there."

"Then Tertius would have stayed. He cares too much, even coming to this damn place just to find you," he stated, his voice and physical strength growing weaker. "I wasn't about to let two young people die, let alone those children. Mayfield was close enough."

"Then what makes you any different, huh? How come you get to stay here and face whatever's left out there?" she retorted angrily, finally finding a red box of gel. Mary set it to the side and reached once more for the bar in his chest, Marinus grabbing her wrist before she could touch it.

"Someone has to be the distraction if they can't find a shuttle here," he said, putting what energy he had left into shoving her to the side. "Now get out of here!"

"No! I won't do it!" she yelled, crawling back over to his side only to have him place a firm hand on her shoulder.

"If you stay here you could die!" he exclaimed. "You can't do this! You matter too much to someone—"

"You're someone's dad!" she cried, feeling tears start to stick to her dirtied face. "I won't do it. I won't let this happen to anybody else. I just...I can't."

She tried to dry her eyes as quickly as possible when he refused to say anything, knowing that he would probably take her less seriously because of it. When her vision had become less hazy, though, she could tell that, for one reason or another, he wasn't going to try and send her away again. Instead, he took her wrist, pressing a few commands until a sparking, electrified blade swung around, gripping the bar with his other hand.

"Cut it as close as you can to the armor," he instructed, his words hoarse. "And try not to cut off my arm in the process."

Ignoring his jest, she went to work trying to saw through the thick metal, finding that the blade did very little damage cutting into it. It was the best option they had, however, and she was going to make the best of it. Time didn't feel like waiting for them as minutes felt like hours, Marinus's strength fading in trying to keep his eyelids from closing. All Mary wanted to focus on was getting the beam weak enough to at least twist it free, neglecting the noises that echoed off the walls and grew closer.

The commander wasn't sure what to make of it at first, thinking that the scratching he heard through the ground was simply the metal rattling beneath him. He noticed that it wasn't timed right, though. It occurred even when she paused to examine her work, growing louder the more he concentrated on it. He took in a breath to open his eyes fully, gazing in horror as a pair of hands crawled up over the rubble.

"Behind you!" he attempted to warn, but the creature was already too close.

By the time Mary was able to turn around, a husk had found its way onto the remains of the bridge and make a leap for them. It reached out just as she got a good look at it, its jagged fingernails slicing through the right side of her face. The impact sent her twirling over Marinus's legs, her omni-tool falling lose and cutting into the cement.

The husk hesitated, almost seeming surprised that it could manage to hit something, and crouched over his body. With the rush of the situation hitting his system, the commander reached up, grabbing the once human monstrosity on its jaw and stabbing his talons into its mouth, taking a firm hold before slamming its head into the ground next to him. Before it could regain its balance from a probable concussion, Marinus pulled at the bar again, noticing it was much weaker and able to be snapped off. With a shout of fury he lifted himself off the rest of it, using his weight and both hands to piece the husk in the back of the neck, pinning it to the ground. If its lights hadn't dimmed in its death, it certainly wouldn't have been able to move anyway.

The elder turian gasped for air, gripping his chest in absolute agony. He felt the area around him with blurring vision, trying to find the medi-gel package she had set aside. A hand would meet his, however, hearing the signature beeps of the omni-tool and sensing the pain leaving him as a substance was placed onto his wounds. When his stare could be lifted from the ground, he watched as Mary searched around from where she knelt, needing to turn her head much more severely. Within a moment, he knew why.

Her face was drenched in red liquid, gashes extending from the corner of her lip to her temple, forehead to jawline. Her right eye was shut, though he wondered if there was much of an eye left to speak of; there was a visible indentation underneath her eyelid. She was either ignoring the pain or completely oblivious to it, standing and scuffing her bare feet on the debris.

"Gun! Where did that gun go?" she thought aloud, frantically searching about the area.

She stopped when the scratching noises began again, seeming much louder and larger in number. Wiping the blood creeping to the inside of her mouth, she stepped back over to Marinus, handing him the omni-tool.

"You can probably use this better than I can," she stated, stepping on the dead creature's back and pulling out the metal support. Lifting it into her hands, she swung it at her side, tapping it onto the ground a few times. "Besides, I've played baseball a couple of times. I should be pretty good at this."

He sat dumbfounded, slowly chuckling as the first few reapers began to appear from around the corner. She grabbed his elbow to help him stand, beaming a smile with her teeth coated red.

"My apologies for what I said back at C-Sec," he said, attaching the instrument to his wrist. "You deserve to be here as much as anyone."

"Well, not really _here_, right?" she laughed, seeing him glare out of the corning of his eye. "Kidding, kidding! But thanks."

Lifting the bar over her shoulder, Mary could hear him activate the blade once more and wait patiently with her as the mass of creatures approached. Somehow it would have been nice if time went by slower in that instance, but they were just too quick. Before they could really make a plan of action, the reapers were already scrambling onto the broken concrete, ready to spring for them.

That is, until one of the heads exploded in a black mess on the ground.

They weren't entirely sure where it came from at first, considering the only thing they heard was the whistle before several shots were planted squarely into the craniums of their enemies. There would be three heat sinks and then a brief pause, followed by three more, almost frighteningly accurate head shots. The reapers didn't even manage to get closer than three meters before their bodies started to pile up, creating a barrier of sorts for them to start backing away. When their feet met solid ground, the roar of an engine zoomed up above them, gently gliding down into the high-walled space. Its side hatch opened as the gunfire continued, Tertius and Dairu rushing out with their own weapons drawn, making sure the reapers didn't get too close.

Mary helped Marinus hobble over until Dairu took his arm over his shoulder, finding herself slowing her pace to let them enter first. It took her a moment to realize Tertius was on her right side, looking up to find him standing in stunned silence. She finally became aware of the blood on her tongue, not knowing whether she should smile in relief or start to cry. Mary wouldn't have to make that decision; Tertius instead picked her up under her knees, hurrying her inside.

The ship lifted off without much trouble, wobbling in the air before gliding back to a hanger. Asira, whose piloting expertise came in handy for once, hovered it along the rooftop, opening the side hatch to let Lalita hop in. Without thinking much of it, she set down the sniper rifle she had found under one of the shuttle's benches, getting to work on trying to find more medical supplies. Many of them had already been used up treating Mayfield, but at least he was stable, lying unconscious on one of four benches.

Marinus laughed through his growing pain, adjusting in his seat. "300 yards, huh? More like 1000."

She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him with a weak smile. "I've been practicing."

"What took you all so long?" he asked, gazing to the side to see the other turian attempting to clean off the human girl's face. The asari children were also huddled around her, handing him replacement clothes when needed.

"Sorry, sir, this was the first space-faring vessel we could find," Asira said from the open door cockpit. "We might not have found it, either, if the lieutenant didn't want to climb to the second floor for a better vantage point in the hanger."

"I see," he answered thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall as Lalita approached with a small packet of medi-gel.

"Seems that makes us even now," she muttered, sitting down next to him and inspecting the wounds in his arms.

"We were always equal," he replied quietly, wincing slightly when she applied the healing agent.

"You're going to eat those words later," she muttered, her lips curling in a grin.

He stopped her by taking her hand, shaking it lightly in thought. She tilted her head in wonder, ducking her eyes underneath his to read his expression. When the girls in the corner became louder with their chattiness, assured that they were going to be alright, he continued softly.

"You did well. Ona would have been proud of you," he admitted. "I'm...proud of you. Should have said that a long time ago."

Her features eased away from their concern, her hand tightening around his. "No. This is just fine."

—

Nothing seemed to go well for them when they attempted to return to the Citadel. What fuel the shuttle had was nearly eaten up just trying to get back to the Mass Relay, and when they had finally made the jump back into the Serpent Nebula...it was gone. There was no trace that that station had ever been there. Asira had to check and recheck to make sure their navigation systems were functioning correctly, but the truth didn't change. Their place of residence was gone and, what was worse, they had no place to go. The fuel would eventually burn out, followed by the back up power cells and finally the oxygen supply. They needed to think of somewhere to jump to, and fast.

Any stations nearby were most likely Cerberus run, and any worlds they could think of within the necessary distance were probably crawling with Reapers. There didn't seem to be any place left in the galaxy to run to, especially if the Citadel—the very symbol of order left—had just up and disappeared. The only place left that sparked hope in them was a salarian research colony Dairu recalled his mother working in. While the base was highly low-key and had a potential of denying them access to land, it was worth a shot.

They flew back through the Mass Relay to the designated system, virtually coasting on fumes by the time they reached the planet. It was a smaller, more tropical world, appearing largely untouched from the upper atmosphere. When they attempted to hail the facility planet-side, Dairu raising the communication and explaining the situation before they could answer with more than a greeting, they were all surprised to find them so welcoming. Even Dairu admitted salarians were not known for their hospitality and to be addressed so openly was strange.

Landing on the research institute's small port, the scientists immediately met them outside, answering the oddity of their behavior. They hadn't been able to contact anyone for weeks. Only their shortwave radios had been working, barely making it past the heavy sky. They were glad to see there were people still alive, that the Reapers hadn't annihilated the rest of civilization. The group remained quiet about the happenings on Sanctuary and of the Citadel, deciding that it was best not to start a panic.

A week passed and, while they attempted to recuperate from their ordeal, something truly peculiar happened. One evening while they ate their meals outside under the night air, a small flash of light, like a dying star, flickered in the evening sky only briefly, dimming slightly before it became brighter. It was almost as if a red ribbon stretched across the horizon, growing wider and more illuminated with each passing moment. The more it developed, however, the more Mary's head began to sting. The closer the light became, the more they could see she was in pain, inevitably holding the sides of her head. She fell off her chair and onto the ground, unable to help herself as she screamed in agony, pulling at the gauze that had been wrapped around her head. Tertius was the only one close enough to see into the back of her throat, noticing a blue glow pulsing in lines just underneath her skin. It was frightening within those few moments of wondering what the far off light would bring, unknowing of what he could do. He lifted her up and placed her back against a solid pillar, keeping her head from writhing around too much as they waited for it to pass.

And pass it did, almost as if it did nothing at all. The red band of light swept over the planet and through their bodies, leaving small sparks of red static dancing along their limbs and eventually fading. When Tertius looked back to Mary, she was unconscious, the blue glow no longer present in her image.

Another six months would pass after that day, and life, though filled with concern as to what had happened in the greater universe, was fine for most of them. Marinus had recovered relatively quickly from his injuries and had taken the initiative to spend his days sitting along the nearby coastline either shooting bottles that were just lying around with Lalita or sitting under a tree napping. He helped out whenever he was needed, as did Lalita, but they both used the phrase 'early retirement' like it was something to live by. Perhaps it was.

Dairu put his computer skills to use by trying to increase the outgoing signal, as well as figure out why the communication system was so erratic. As it turned out, there was a reason why the oceans of the planet were lighter in color, much like everything else; there was a strange electrical charge coming from the organic life, creating a bio-luminescence that was even in the sea. He was surprised when the scientists hadn't figured that out for themselves, since that had been their primary field of study.

With his help, Asira would put together broadcast messages to send out, hoping that someone eventually stumbled across them, at least to know they had somewhere to go. If she wasn't putting together new communications, she was helping to get Mayfield back on his feet. He had been unconscious for a month when they arrived, kept under heavy sedation by the salarian medics to make sure his pain subsided before he woke up. When he had, there wasn't any other time any of them could recall seeing her so affectionate. Despite the fact that she would well outlive all of them, the thought of death must have been weighing on her shoulders severely. She kept the manners of her culture intact and managed not to be too forward with her behavior, but anyone would have been foolish not to see she was giving a thousand years worth of love with every moment she spent at his side. For while they wondered if it was the medication he was on or if Mayfield really was that oblivious. Thankfully, it was the former.

The little asari children seemed to adjust to the new world quite easily, listening to their instructions not to wander to far and spending most of their time building sand forts on the beach. While they both missed their mother terribly, particularly the youngest who would have nightmares about their experience, there was always someone around to help them feel better. The one person they went to the most, even if she would have to force a smile through her pain and tiredness, was Mary.

Mary tried to keep her spirits high, helping clean up the facility and making sure the plants didn't start to grow on the walls. She would go outside and play with the girls when she felt up to it, but a lot of the time she stayed in bed. For a while it was because she could barely move, the bright light that had cascaded through the sky seemingly taking away anything that walled up her pain. Physical anguish became something of emotional distress, and it was evident that those feelings came from the marks on her face.

She would never leave her room without them covered in gauze, and would never show her face to anyone when she had to have them replaced, not even to Tertius. He was saddened by the fact that she needed to hide, even telling her once that they were something to be proud of. They were proof that she had lived through the greatest war the galaxy would ever know. His words didn't seem to reassure her, though she would kindly smile as if they had.

Words had never been his strong suit, so he instead stuck with his actions. She seemed the happiest when they would sit out on a large, braided net of rope strung up between four trees. Mary related it to 'something like a hammock', whatever that was. At first he spent time on it by himself, trying to figure out how to actually lay in it. It wasn't until she watched him through her window, seeing him stick his arms and legs accidentally through the holes and nearly fall out of it a few times, did she join him. She looked like a professional when she sat down in it once and was perfectly comfortable, Tertius grumbling on how it must have been a human contraption the salarians adopted. Still, he managed to figure out how to lay down next to her, having plenty of space for either of them to stretch out. Well, enough space for her to stretch out and not hit him in the face again.

Reminiscing seemed to be the best cure for whatever ailed her, staring up at the orange sunlight through the tree leaves and talking just as they had in the apartment. She would wonder whether they were making any more Blasto movies and he would joke that were would probably be ten more by the time they returned. It wasn't like either of them wanted to return to that place, though, or that they ever could; things were alright the way they were. It didn't hurt that the asari children tried to bring a smile to their faces, spotting their napping spot and crawling in between them. Niri even laid on Tertius's chest on days when she had had trouble sleeping the previous night, drooling onto his collar but completely at peace listening to his heartbeat. It made Mary laugh, reminding him how much it sounded of home. For that very reason, he let the girl remain.

Their time together would not last. Eventually the signal became strong enough to reach far out communication beacons, transmitting to nearby systems. It even went all the way to the fleets at Palaven, bouncing off and also sending them to the Alliance. The first to take notice to a message with a list of names and a plea to have anyone respond would be a specific group of turians. When the ship landed, the first to emerge was the girls' father, almost frantic to know where they were. To see their faces was to witness absolute joy, the children hanging onto his arms and seeming to never let go the rest of their stay.

The next few to step off the shuttle was a surprise. Two of Marinus's sons were there to greet their father, saying the third would have been there if he wasn't stuck helping to repair the Citadel. It came as a shock when they learned of its new location, situated as a broken mass in Earth's atmosphere. It was a hardened thought in their minds to think of all those people who had been living there, wondering what could have gone wrong for barely anyone to make it out alive. It wasn't something they would dwell on, though, not when the times called for a happier celebration; at the end of it all, the Reapers were no more by some cosmic event no one had figured out quite yet, but civilization had won.

Tertius was overjoyed to find that his brother was the last to appear from the group, wanting to ask him all about his missions on Palaven. Caien was just as interested to hear of his escapades on the Citadel, deciding it would be best spent over a meal. Though the synthesized food tasted poor, somehow it managed to taste better that day. Mary even came out of her room to meet them all, Tertius having to kick Caien under the table to keep him from implying too much again. The last thing he wanted was to explain what he had told his brother, subsequently having his masculinity questioned by the rest of his squad from knowing a human lullaby.

It wasn't long before they finally received a transmission from the Alliance, clarifying the situations in the various systems. Not only this, but they made it clear that they were searching for the girl listed on the message they had sent out. Mary was surprised yet hesitant when they asked her affiliation to someone else, saying that it was her grandmother. Apparently land ownership meant more in terms of influence on Earth than Tertius had first suspected, or at least gave some indication of it. With that, they informed her that they would be sending a shuttle to retrieve her.

The news seemed to weigh both good and bad in Mary's mind. On one hand, she would be returning to her family, able to live her life in a much more comforting and familiar place. On the other hand, she would have to leave behind that which she had grown to feel at home with.

The day before she was scheduled to leave, he remembered something he had grabbed before leaving the Citadel, figuring it might be a great sendoff present. That evening he searched for her in her usual places, finding it strange when she wasn't in her room, nor in the dining hall or medical station. She wasn't even on the side of the facility in the tree net. Instead, it took him squinting towards the dim light of the coastline to see her sitting in the sand, gazing out into the water.

The phosphorescent organisms that lived near the shore sparkled brightly on the edges of the water, illuminating her face almost as if she were looking into a lit pool. He made sure to approach by her left side, something he had grown accustomed to doing over the last few months, before holding out the item in his hand, waiting for her to realize what it was and taking a seat next to her.

"Sheep!" she beamed, taking the fluffy plush into her arms and squeezing it tightly. "Where did you get this?"

"Before I left the apartment I stuffed it in a bag," he replied, resting his arms on his knees. "Forgot I still had it until this afternoon when I was searching through my old things."

She rose an eyebrow, smiling curiously. "Of all the things you would take from your apartment, you take up most of the room with a stuffed sheep."

"Well, I also packed the datapad with all my brother's messages on it," he shrugged, "but yeah. There wasn't anything more important that couldn't be replaced."

She paused, letting his words sink in as she picked at the sheep's wool. Smiling lightly, she pressed her chin into it, bringing her knees to her chest.

"Hey, Tertius?"

"Hm?"

"You totally cheated."

He blinked slowly, sitting up straighter. "What?"

"Caien told you what the song was," she giggled, turning into a full laugh when he groaned, falling onto his back with his arms outstretched into the sand. "He told me when I passed him in the hall a few weeks ago. He said we had a wager and that I shouldn't let you win when you had outside help."

"Yeah, that sounds like Caien," he sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "Does that mean I lose?"

Mary hummed thoughtfully, shaking her head. "No. I guess it's a draw."

"Will you still sing the song then?"

"You already heard it from those Alliance guys!"

"He told you that too, huh?" he huffed, sitting up again. "Okay, that's fine. I'll look it up sometime."

Another moment of silence drifted between them, far less pleasant than the last. He tried quickly to think of a different topic, lightly rolling his wrist in front of himself as if it would help. He wasn't quite sure what to say, even if he had so many things lingering in the back of his mind. There wouldn't be much time for him to think about them, though, as he felt her arm wrap around his own, holding it tightly. Her head was tilted with a blank expression staring at the reflecting waters, her voice off-pitch and speaking barely above a whisper.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms...When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and I cried. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray...You'll never know, dear, how much I love you...So please don't take my sunshine away." She let out a short breath, leaning her head against his shoulder. "There's more but I don't really remember the rest. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he said softly, awkwardly chuckling slightly. "I can see why you like the short version."

"Hey, Tertius?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitated to continue, slipping her arm away and turning in her seat to face him. "If...If I didn't have to go, would you still want me around?"

"Of course," he answered, considering what she meant behind her question. Tertius smiled, pushing back the lose strand of hair that had fallen over her eyelashes. "But your family needs you. You deserve to be with them."

"But...We're family too, right?" she asked, her one exposed eye beginning to sting. "In some weird...vague...whatever way the word's used, right?"

There was only one way to think to answer that, especially since his words only made things worse. Placing his talons gently on the back of her head, he leaned his head forward slightly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"They had you first," he replied quietly.

They weren't separated for very long when he sat back and saw that she had already begun to cry, Mary reaching out and wrapping her arms around his neck. He returned the gesture without reluctance, holding her close for possibly the last time. Tertius would eventually convince her to go back inside to sleep, lying awake himself until he would see her off to Earth the next day. Until that came, though, they would sit under the stars Mary no longer feared, remembering their days together as if they might be forgotten. Even if great, darkened spaces separated them, though, they knew they would never forget.


	24. Epilogue

Epilogue

Life was not particularly easy for those who were left after the galactic war, but time was on their side. The pieces that were laid askew were put back together once they were found and reached, and no one could remember a time in history when everyone, even those who had once been bitter enemies, flew under a banner of peace.

Tertius wasn't entirely sure how the political spectrum fared, considering the Citadel had been found in ruins, the council itself gone, and it hovered as a new satellite above mankind's Earth. Then again, like most people in the galaxy, he didn't really care; homes needed to be rebuilt, people returned to their families, and precious communication systems put in place. Anyone who was suspected of cheating these efforts was diligently put in their place, even by those who were self-professed pirates. It was enough to make one wonder why it took a war to make it all happen.

Since Citadel Security was officially disbanded due to it becoming obviously unnecessary and many officers vowing never to return to that place again, he decided to take what remained of his civic duty someplace more familiar. He enlisted with the rescue fleet alongside his brother, taking up missions to secure far outposts and retrieve stranded soldiers on various worlds. Without a colony to return to, being a vagrant on a military vessel seemed as much a home as anywhere. For the time being, anyhow.

Despite his feelings towards being grounded for too long, Keeda and what family welcomed her back were happy to have both turian brothers stay with them; they found themselves stationed around the Perseus Veil anyway. Of course, the extra hands for constructing homes on Rannoch didn't hurt. Tertius would even help his brother build a humble home for Keeda—a surprise wedding gift, Caien said, which, luckily for their bruised and broken hands, she accepted.

Watching the ceremony along a cliff side of the quarian home world was almost surreal, the sun setting off in the distance as both turian and quarian officials performed the rights of marriage. They took the most profound bits from each culture, neither seeming to want to outdo the other, and entwined the words of both turian duty and quarian devotion into something strangely, yet beautifully, poetic. There were people from all walks of life who decided to come, from members of other quarian flotillas to turian platoons. There was even a small ground of human troops he recognized from one of his messages; the man who was missing one of his legs seemed to be the life of the party, at least with the single women. The festivities were truly a sight to behold, and he was both happy and proud for his brother.

He couldn't help but think, though, that perhaps she would have wanted to see it.

It had been two years since he talked to Mary face to face. While she sent messages to him frequently through text, as it was the fastest and most efficient way of reaching anyone since most of the communication beacons were fried, he was still...saddened by her departure. He had no reason to be; she was on Earth, with her family and happily living in someplace 'out in the boonies', as she put it. Still, he missed seeing her, to know for sure if she was okay or not. Maybe she wondered about this herself, since, over time, she kept asking how he was more frequently. He would always say he was fine, but he wasn't so sure of that himself.

As the stars of the universe began to burn brightly in the night sky, the celebrations in full swing, his omni-tool started to flicker. It would do that every so often, sometimes from an incoming transmission and other times from feedback radiation bouncing through the atmosphere. All he could do was try not to think of what it could be and wait until the signal became stronger.

Eventually it did, Tertius subconsciously wandering off to view it. Everyone was preoccupied enough not to wonder where he went, at least, allowing him to find a quieter spot to access his messages. Even if it was his day off, it might have been from the fleet. What he received, however, was not typed as he expected, nor was it even prerecorded.

"Hey!"

He froze in his tracks, his mandibles flicking out slightly in shock. "Mary?"

"I was wondering if you were going to answer!" she said, carrying a hint of relief. "Or if this thing would even send. Half way across the galaxy and you still leave me in suspense, huh?"

Though the image was a bit grayed and crossed with interlaced lines, the face he saw was clearly hers. She had aged, as was expected, with her blond hair a little longer and her smile lines a little deeper. It was dark where she was, most likely night as well, her back against the rough surface of a tree. Despite being surprised and overjoyed to see her, he couldn't help but remain silent, staring at the scarf that wrapped around the right side of her face. She appeared just as nervous about it since the day they last spoke, noticing that he was staring and tugging at the seam near her lip.

"Sorry, been a little busy," he tired joking, taking in a breath to break himself from his thoughts. "What with Caien having a marriage ceremony and someone having a birthday pretty soon...By the way, did you get your present?"

"Oh yeah, tell Caien I said congrats and...Wait, you, what?" she stammered, shifting in her seat. "You remembered my birthday?"

"Of course I did!" he laughed. "I asked, what, six months ago, didn't I? I sent it out around then."

"What did you get me?" she beamed, tucking her lose hair behind her one exposed ear.

"I can't tell you that! It's bad enough I said I sent you anything!"

He had been sure to research the significance of birthdays for humans beforehand, though. Apparently, eighteen constituted as a partial passage into adulthood, at least where some restrictions were removed. Though he had unfortunately missed that event, the same rules still applied. These revoked limitations included her favorite vid series her parents had once disapproved of. Despite the Citadel's destruction and the extranet being disconnected, copies of Blasto still existed in various merchant outcroppings in the galaxy. He just so happened upon a recording from a volus and, while the price was ridiculously high for it, he managed to purchase and send it off on a freighter heading for Earth. What he had wrapped it in, and what he would wonder if it was foolish of him to do so, was an embroidered scarf an asari maiden had weaved in exchange for a few rations. He paid twice of what she asked, considering it was worth far more than that, but the fact remained if Mary might find it...insulting. Tertius wasn't entirely sure how she was coping with her scars until then, and seeing her trying to cover them as much as she could with several noticeable layers made him more anxious. There would be a time and place to address it, though; all he wanted to do was talk to his friend.

"Maybe grandma got it," she mumbled, tapping the side of her face. "I moved, so I haven't gotten much physical mail lately."

"You did?" he asked, surprised. "I thought you liked it at your grandmother's."

"Oh, I do! I technically still live there," she corrected, "but I'm at an Alliance base now. Apparently my sister's insurance policy still carried over so they're, uh...They're going to try and fix my face."

"I've...never heard of that," he replied, trying to sidestep the greater issue.

"Neither did I," she shrugged, her face becoming distorted momentarily from the message's signal flickering. "But whatever works, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "As long as you're happy."

She paused, her smile twitching away ever so slightly as the feed became filled with more static. He could tell she wanted to say something more about it, taking in a breath and quickly letting it go while her left eye fluttered in thought. While he wanted her to say whatever was on her mind, unsure if they'd be able to speak like that again, he wasn't about to ask. If it would cause her to cry, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Hey, I'm not so sure how long this is going to hold out—"

"I miss you," she said abruptly, pressing her lips together from saying anything else too quickly. "I just...thought you should know that."

He smiled, the ache in his chest falling away. "I miss you, too. Next time I'm on leave I'll try to hitch a ride to Earth and see you for your next birthday."

"Really?" she asked hopefully. "But it'll take at least six months to get here."

"Maybe they'll have more Relays fixed before then. They got the ones around Illium and Palaven operational pretty quickly."

"True. May...ey..."

The message was on its last leg, his omni-tool's light even fading with the signal's dispersion. He could barely make out what she was saying at that point, her image dimming as well. With a smile he kept his wrist steady, sighing quietly.

"Goodbye, Mary. Happy birthday. I'll write again soon."

He could tell that she hesitated, her teeth exposed in a grin. "G...night, Tert...Love you."

With that the transmission terminated, leaving him to the dimly lit path and the dull commotion of the party he had almost forgotten about. Reading her last regards was much different than hearing it; she had started to end her messages with those words awhile ago, particularly when his previous text seemed disheartened. While he still wasn't sure what context it held for humans in their situation, it didn't really matter. He had been waiting to hear from her for what felt like ages, worried about the girl he had saved, who had saved him, in a time where very few people had anything left. If that's what one form of love meant, then he could honestly admit it to be true. Seeing her again flooded his senses with both happiness and relief, and it must have been written all over his face.

"There you are," he heard his brother say from behind, Tertius quickly disconnecting his omni-tool. He had sworn not to turn it on out of concern the Hierarchy might interrupt the joyous occasion with a new assignment for the next day. Tertius had grown accustomed to always checking, though, just in case. "We were about to make a toast. What are you doing out here?"

"I was, uh..." he rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. "Sorry, just had to check my messages."

"And?" he asked, crossing his arms. He wanted a straight answer, be it good or bad news, and Tertius knew he would keep pestering him until he said something.

"Mary sends her regards," he muttered, waving a hand, "and her congratulations."

Caien's arms dropped to his sides again, stepping up to him almost excitedly. "That's great! She's okay then, yeah? I know you haven't heard from her in a while. What else did she write?"

"She...didn't write anything," he replied slowly, attempting to contain everything she had said. "It was a vid message. A live one, probably from an Alliance network."

"No kidding," he said, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder as they began to walk back. Noticing Tertius's silence, his voice grew softer, hovering below what anyone off in the distance would hear. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, gazing up to the stars above. "Everything will be."

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: Well, ladies and gentlemen, this brings an end to my interpretation of these two. Thank you all for reading and writing the wonderful reviews that made my day to see. After not writing fan fiction for about six years, it's nice to see my storytelling skills are still enjoyable. :) Kudos to anyone who figured out what was going on with the chapter titles, (though, to be fair, you had to view them from the actual chapters and not the scroll bar FF gives). Special kudos, though, to Archer83, who not only figured it out, but sent me a PM with a longer version that I had no idea existed! If you still haven't noticed it yet, just go though each chapter title and read the word in the bracket aloud consecutively. It should be pretty apparent after about five words. ;D As for future projects, I've actually considered writing a sequel to this one, as well as perhaps writing stories about the other side characters, (due to some reviewer suggestions! I blame you guys for wanting to write more! lol) Though, I'm not entirely sure if anyone would be interested, considering I've gone so far off the usual route of Mass Effect fiction as it is. XD; But we'll see; if anybody has any other interests they'd like to see written, leave a comment!<p>

Now onto the long, perhaps boring part where I explain the themes/symbolism going on in the story! Woo~

Main theme: In short, love. (Aww...) In more detail, the story was portraying the different types of love found in life. This could be a love between friends, between family, and, yes, even love of the romantic sort, both requited and unrequited. Many of these relationships are pretty easy to spot, though I'd imagine the most complicated one for most people is actually that between Tertius and Mary. And...I did that on purpose. :P At this point I'd figure it was a love between best friends, but really the reader could skew it in any direction their head cannon desires in the aftermath. Many of you wondered why I brought in the OCs often and one of their roles, not just to weave the story a little better, was to act as a foil, (or possible representation), of what love can be. In the end, the gist was that love, regardless of its form, can help carry us through life, strive for things we never thought possible and get through our darkest hour.

...On a side note, the song 'After the Storm' by Mumford and Sons has pretty much become the theme song of this story. This is not only because I heard it from a Mass Effect video while I was writing, _and_ I'm a bit biased because it became my favorite song, _and_ I listened to it quite a bit while writing, but because it's actually rather fitting. Come to think of it, it's fitting for a lot of aspects of this universe...Hm. Anyway!

Hidden goodness: If you haven't gone back and figured it out by now, the chapter titles were words to 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'. Why? For symbolism, of course! Not too complicated, though; Mary is Mary and Tertius ended up being the lamb. I put a hint of this in chapter 16 when Dee Dee was speaking Portuguese, calling him 'The grumpy sheep' and getting a kick out of it.

If you have any more questions/comments, feel free to PM me or leave a review! Again, thank you all so much for reading!


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